Slaves of Love

Praise for the writing of Elizabeth Batten-Carew Beyond the Clouds Elizabeth Batten-Carew really knows how to bring t...

Author: Batten-Carew Elizabeth

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Praise for the writing of Elizabeth Batten-Carew

Beyond the Clouds

Elizabeth Batten-Carew really knows how to bring the reader into the lives of her characters…This story is one any reader will want to pick up time and time again. -- Sarah, Fallen Angel Reviews These two are a great pair together. I recommend this story for those enjoying a sweet love story laced with witty dialogue and steamy love scenes. -- Jacqueline DuBose, Just Erotic Romance Reviews Elizabeth Batten-Carew has crafted a fun, enjoyable tale with Beyond the Clouds. Readers will chuckle, smile and sniffle at the budding romance of Gill and Cade. -- Patti Fischer, Romance Reviews Today Ms Batten-Carew does a great job of developing the characters of Gillian and Cade… Through a series of misunderstandings and misrepresentations, you can’t help but root for these two to get together. Great job, Ms Batten-Carew, providing us with a thoroughly enjoyable story. -- Elise Lynn, eCataRomance Reviews

Beyond the Clouds is now available from New Concepts Publishing.

SLAVES OF LOVE

Elizabeth Batten-Carew

www.loose-id.com

Warning This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

***** This book is rated:

For substantial explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable (ménage, homoerotic sex, some violence).

Slaves of Love Elizabeth Batten-Carew This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by Loose Id LLC 1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-29 Carson City NV 89701-1215 www.loose-id.com

Copyright © November 2005 by Elizabeth Batten-Carew Excerpt of Comet Coalition copyright April 2005 by Aubrey Ross All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

ISBN 1-59632-194-6 Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

Printed in the United States of America

Editor: Erin Mullarkey Cover Artist: Kelly Priddy

Dedication To Mark, my inspiration, my love.

Chapter One

Shena stood totally naked on the high rock ledge overlooking her favorite pond. Her scratchy tunic and loose-fitting taygha pants sat in a heap on the grass by the water, her plain white bra and panties tucked underneath. Two crimson garals glided over the water on delicate, feathered wings. Others trilled in the trees, and a light breeze set the leaves aflutter, the gentle rustle soothing to her soul. This lovely spot had been her mother’s favorite place. Her mother had died from an outbreak of Gahdagha flu, which had claimed the lives of several people in the county when Shena was only a year old. Coming here helped her ground her emotions after dealing with her father’s foul moods. She swallowed hard as she stared over the glittering water, barely seeing it. Her face still smarted from his smack when she’d dropped a plate while clearing the table after the midday meal. What bothered her most was that he’d come at her with his fist clenched but, at the last minute, hesitated, then slapped her with the flat of his hand. A blow from his fist would have left a black eye or split lip. She’d noticed the trader ship -- the second this week -- arrive this morning and couldn’t help thinking a mark on her face would make her a less desirable commodity for the

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traders. Maybe her father intended to carry out his threat this time. She had dashed out of the house as soon as she’d had a chance, hoping if she kept out of sight, he would forget how much she displeased him. For others, the arrival of a trader ship raised great excitement. The marketplace would swell with exotic goods from many worlds, alongside staples necessary for the inhabitants of this small planet, Tarun, to survive. Shena, however, had lived with her father’s threats far too long. One day, if she wasn’t terribly careful, he might actually carry out his threat to sell her to the traders. Although slavery had been banned on most of the planets in the coalition -- including Tarun -- E’Le’Dor, only a few star systems away, still had a thriving slave trade. Shena closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, allowing the sweet, delicate fragrance of caulila blossoms to wash through her. The sun warmed her body, and a soft breath of air brushed across her skin. She smiled. This was what heaven must be like. Sweat trickled between her breasts as she gazed on the rippling water below, sunlight glistening off the surface. It heartened her to know that such beauty existed in the world, even though everyday life was so lacking in it. She leaped headfirst from the rock, arms outstretched in front of her. The coolness flowed across her naked body as she cut through the water, the grime of sweat and apprehension sluicing from her. Her breasts tightened and her nipples puckered into tight buds. She angled upward. Her head broke through the surface of the water, and she drew in a lungful of fresh air. She floated on her back, the tips of her breasts poking up through the water. The sun felt glorious on her face, and she closed her eyes and emptied her mind, enjoying the only real freedom she knew. A snap startled her to alertness. Her eyes flicked open, and she shifted to a vertical position in the water, keeping her arms close as she treaded water, attempting to cover herself. She searched the water’s edge with thorough, sweeping glances, but saw no one along the sandy edge or within the trees and bushes beyond the rocky shore.

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At a rustling sound, her gaze snapped to the left. A dealla stepped from between two trees and peered at her with wide brown eyes, then dashed away on its long, lanky legs. That’s all it had been, she chided herself, still quivering. Just a timid grazer. Not one of her father’s soldiers. She swam to the opposite shore and pulled herself from the pool. Beads of water trickled down her limbs and torso. She dropped onto the small, secluded strip of beach and stretched out on the warm sand. Her skin felt fresh and alive. It even glowed a healthy pink. The decadence of the sun dancing across her body excited her. Her breasts peaked, and her thighs felt deliciously warm. Her fingers slid across her rib cage, over the curve of a breast to her nipple, tight and aching, longing to be touched. She dragged her fingertip over the pebbly areola, then across the tight nub, which felt like a round, soft bead. She loved how it hardened when she touched it, the sharp pangs of excitement that jolted through her, connecting straight to her lower regions. The inner muscles of her vagina tightened and ached. The pace of her breathing increased. She shouldn’t be doing this, but the intensity of the feelings in her body, the need those feelings aroused, was too overwhelming to ignore. Who would know, or care, what she did? She cupped her breast, exulting in the feel of the nipple pressing into the sensitive palm of her hand. Her other hand slid across her belly and downward, pausing at the silky feel of her pubic hair. She stroked it, smiling. Soft. She cupped her other breast and felt her face flush. Her other hand continued downward, across her inner thigh, then around the fleshy fold, spiraling inward. Her muscles tightened as she focused on the intense sensations. Her finger slid up to the small, hard button cradled in the folds. She dabbed at it, then stroked once and almost cried out at the intense pleasure it gave. The world faded around her


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as she settled deeply inside herself, experiencing the stroking of her finger, the building of the heat within her, the pleasure flooding through her. Stronger and stronger. Higher and higher. It rushed through her like white water in a torrential river. Her breathing, labored and harsh, rushed through her lungs. She felt, rather than heard, the moan start in her throat, then build to a crescendo as she exploded in a burst of pleasure. She dropped back onto the sand, feeling the air flooding in and out of her lungs, loving the languorous feeling of her body, replete, satisfied in a pleasure of her own making. She stretched, then pushed herself to her feet, knowing she should head home, but reluctant to leave.

***** Keern sat beyond the bushes, watching the beautiful wood nymph, his eyes glazed over and his breathing slowly returning to normal. He’d left the small space port in Dudane five long, hot hours ago. The tedious trip had given him ample time to remember all the reasons he’d left this backwater, technologybarren planet in the first place. He’d begun to reconsider his sketchy plans to turn this visit for his brother’s wedding into a permanent stay. About an hour ago, he’d stopped at the secluded pond to fill his canteen. When he’d heard a splash in the water, he’d cautiously approached to see who was about and had spotted this lovely young woman swimming naked in the pool. Suddenly, this outdated planet brightened with exciting possibilities. He hadn’t been able to drag his gaze from her. The sunlight had glistened on her long golden hair as it floated around her, and he could see her creamy, naked shoulders and the swell of her breasts above the water. His cock had leapt to attention immediately, confined painfully within his black leather trousers. Shet’ra, what did he expect? He hadn’t been with a woman since Kolanna, the last in a long line of shallow, manipulative women looking to

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him for excitement. His distinct, sexy accent -- as women described it -- developed over fifteen years of travel across a myriad of worlds, stirred their imaginations. They hoped for exotic gifts and travel to far-off places, but their idea of luxurious, pampered trips did not match the reality of his more basic lifestyle. His knowledge and understanding of extreme environments put him in high demand across the sector. Anything from frozen tundra to desert inferno, if it was within the range of human endurance, he could survive and navigate it. Most of his jobs involved rescue and recovery. Sometimes training. Clients ranged from rich thrill-seekers to troop commanders wanting him to lead survival courses. Certainly, he knew how to move through unfamiliar terrain quietly, yet when he’d seen the naked woman in the water, his hormones had flared and he’d missed his footing and tramped on a twig. She must have heard it snap because she’d glanced about, searching for an intruder. Never shifting his gaze from her captivating form, he’d sat down on a rock, ensuring he did not make another sound. He didn’t usually spy on naked women swimming in pools, but she was so beautiful he couldn’t help himself. He’d held his breath as she’d pulled herself from the water, revealing the full length of her totally naked body. Her breasts, generously proportioned, curved upward, tipped by small areolas with tight, hard nipples. His gaze had drifted to the golden thatch of hair at the top of her thighs, and his throat had gone dry. When she’d started exploring her sexy, round breasts with her hands, pleasuring herself, he’d almost groaned out loud. He’d had to hold himself down with a steel will to stop himself from leaping from the bushes and joining her in pleasuring that gorgeous body. He’d wanted to hear her moan from his touches. When she’d reached down to her private folds and stroked her damp crevice, he had almost burst at the seams. In fact, he had taken out his cock, long and hard in a full erection, and stroked it, trembling with the longing to drive it into her glistening opening. He closed his hand around it, stroking back and forth as he watched her, feeling the skin gliding over

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the hard muscle beneath, excruciating need building within him. He wanted to take her, to fill her up and explode within her in a mind-numbing ejaculation of pleasure. But he had no right to intrude on her privacy. He had no way of knowing if she would welcome him or flee from him. His instincts told him she would flee. Although she looked open and uninhibited, he somehow knew it was only because she was sure she was alone. This pond belonged to his family, but they rarely visited here because it was on undeveloped land on the outskirts of their property, far from the house and the fields, and the other landowners respected the boundaries of their neighbors. The last thing he wanted to do was cut short her incredible performance, but more importantly, he didn’t want to frighten her. So he moved his hand to the rhythm of hers, imagined himself plunging into her as she moaned in pleasure, and burst in a fierce ejaculation just as she cried out in climax. Now he slumped back on the ground, exhausted. Once his breathing calmed down, he put his wilted member away and pulled himself to his feet. He really should be on his way, but as he watched her extend her arms in a long, languorous stretch, then push herself to her feet, he decided to stay and see if she would dive into the water again. The beauty of her agile, curvaceous form cutting through the water was sheer poetry. Suddenly, the hair at the back of his neck prickled. Had he heard horses? Quietly, he pushed through the underbrush, leaving the lovely nymph behind as he headed toward the road. He raced to the peak of the hill leading to the quiet spot and saw a wagon of soldiers heading this way. Darg’ra, what were they doing here? At this distance, he couldn’t make out the crest on their uniforms, not that he would necessarily recognize which of the landholders it represented after more than a decade away.

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The pond was not obvious from the road, secluded behind trees and brush, so they weren’t coming here by accident. Why would they be trespassing on his land? Did they know about the young woman? These soldiers didn’t look like the type who would watch her quietly from a distance, and he couldn’t stand the thought of these oafs catching sight of his lovely maiden, let alone touching her with their large, rough hands. He had to get back to his wood nymph. He had to protect her.

***** Shena felt a hand slide around her naked body and pull her backwards against a hard male chest. At the same time, another hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her scream. “I won’t hurt you,” a strange male voice promised. The hint of an unfamiliar accent tinged his words. Off-world and educated. She froze in absolute terror at being held in a man’s grasp while naked and vulnerable. Yet at the same time, the feel of his body against hers set off some very strange feelings. Arousing feelings. Her throat constricted painfully, and she clawed at the steel arm fastened around her waist, desperate to free herself. His grip tightened, pulling her more firmly against his body. “Listen to me.” His words rasped in her ear. “There’s a group of soldiers heading this way, so stay still and don’t make any noise. You don’t want to draw their attention.” Soldiers? She froze in terror. “They won’t be content to just watch politely, like I did. If I remove my hand from your mouth, do you promise not to scream?” She nodded. Whether he spoke the truth or not, she didn’t know, but she was too terrified to chance it. He released her mouth, but not her body. “Let me go,” she demanded, her voice a harsh whisper.

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“I don’t think so, neisha.” His light, teasing tone sent her off balance, and his use of the endearment confused her.

Neisha was not a term an off-worlder would use. In fact, with the slight drag on the last syllable ... Could he be a local? “If I see your luscious body again, I may not be able to control myself.” His words melted through her. She became aware of her nipples tightening, her vagina contracting. He’d watched her swim. Oh, God, he’d seen her taking pleasure. Memories of the pleasure rippled through her body, but this time she imagined his gaze as a tangible feeling caressing her body as her fingers caressed her intimate self. Images superimposed on her memory, of him leaving his hiding place, of his strong, tanned hands touching her body. He loosened his hold on her slightly as he used one hand to remove his cape, then eased her away from him just enough to slide it around her shoulders. She grasped it and pulled it close around her, fastening it at the neck. The rich, smooth feel of the fabric, unmistakably ancula, a Tarun fiber, surrounded her with warmth and an odd sense of security. The heady, male scent enveloped her. He gripped her arm with a gentle but resolute hold and guided her with him into the wooded area overlooking the pond. She struggled, trying to free herself from his grip, desperate to get away from him, her insides shuddering uncontrollably at the powerful and unfamiliar feelings of attraction to him. His hair, dark brown and wavy, curled around his ears and neck. His warm bronze eyes watched her as he effortlessly guided her along, yet she didn’t feel threatened by his gaze, not like she always did with her father’s men. Their stares, which seemed to strip her of dignity, always frightened her. “We’ll stay here until they pass,” he said.

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“Let me go,” she insisted. “No. You don’t believe I’m telling the truth about the soldiers. Until you see them with your own eyes, which should be in about five minutes, I’m going to hold tight.” She was far too conscious of his arm around her waist. His other arm slid around her, and then his hand flattened on her upper chest just below her collarbone, pressing her tight against his strong, broad chest. His leather belt and metal buckle pressed into her lower back, and his pelvis pressed against her buttocks. Only fabric lay between her bare bottom and his ... She felt a blush flame across her face, and she struggled against him. Oh, God, she felt a bulge grow against her. Her movements were arousing him. Blinding fear lanced through her, challenged by a powerful desire to experience the tender loving of a man. Drawn back to the memory of him watching her earlier, it was far too easy to imagine his chest naked against her swollen breasts, to imagine him moving his pelvis against hers in a forbidden act. Five minutes in his arms. She didn’t think she’d survive the conflicting feelings wreaking havoc on her sanity. She would find a way out of this. Maybe if she gave him false confidence in her submission ... “Fine,” she said tightly and slumped against him. As she’d hoped, his hold relaxed a little, and she thrust her elbow into his solar plexus, then pushed back with all her might. He stepped back, regaining his balance, then caught his heel on a rock. They both fell, but she ducked and rolled out of his grasp, then darted into the woods. She dashed through the trees, intending to retrieve her clothes and race home. Under ordinary circumstances, it was much simpler to swim across the pond, but she couldn’t do that without being spotted by the stranger; he’d catch her for sure. It was a longer, harder route, but after ten minutes, she spotted the burgundy-leafed blazing fire bush alongside the grey-green bark of the two elra trees near where she’d left her things. Her gaze locked to the spot where her clothes should have been. God, they were gone!

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Had the stranger taken them? As she stepped from between the trees, searching the ground for any sign of her tunic and tayghas, a leering voice froze her in her tracks. “Look, fellows. What have we here?” A burly man with a straggly, sand-colored beard grinned at her, exposing grey, crooked teeth. His grubby uniform jacket hung open, exposing a sweat-stained shirt beneath. His lurid gaze traveled down the black cape to her feet. She was conscious of the grass between her toes, which reminded her that her feet were bare. What would he think? His focus shifted from her feet to the opening of the cape, which she clung to in a desperate effort to keep it closed. “I suppose you’re looking for those.” He pointed to where another man held up her plain white bra and panties. “Well, well, men. It seems the lass must be naked under that cloak.” Sandy-Beard stepped toward her and she backed up, bumping against a tree. A bitter taste filled her mouth as adrenaline flooded her system. Her whole body trembled uncontrollably. “I bet she’s up for a bit of fun.” His voice lowered to a gritty huskiness. “And I’d sure be willing to show you a bit of fun, lass.” Suddenly, three other men began to crowd around her, and terror squeezed the breath from her. “Aye, and we would, too, Clancy.” He shoved them back. “One at a time, lads.” His sneering lips curled into a caricature of a smile. “Or maybe two. But not ’til I’ve had my go.” Dizziness overwhelmed her, but she fought it as she tried to ease sideways to use the same trick as she had on the tall, dark stranger -- funny, she hadn’t felt the same kind of fear with him -- and escape to the side, but the man’s hand shot out to rest against the tree on her

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right, trapping that escape route. The other soldiers loomed on the left so she’d have nowhere to run. As he reached for her, terror built within her like an inferno. He clamped his hand around her shoulder, his bony fingers digging into her flesh, and grasped the clasp at her neck. She felt faint as she tried to stifle memories that still haunted her nightmares. Memories of the young woman who used to keep house for her father. The image of the woman, hands fastened above her head, clothes stripped from her body. She had screamed as the soldiers rammed into her, over and over again. Those screams still echoed through Shena’s body. “Remove your hand from her, or you’ll lose it.” The stranger’s voice! She turned her gaze to see him standing at the edge of the clearing. Tall. Dark. Ominous-looking. “Who the ’ell are you?” her captor demanded. The dark stranger stepped forward, bringing his hand to the hilt of his sword. All the soldiers backed away except the man holding her. “I said, remove your hand.” The words came out as a low warning, but an undercurrent of rage carried clearly in his tone. Her captor hesitated, but he reluctantly pulled his hand from her shoulder. “What’s it to you, stranger?”


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Chapter Two

Keern had to use all the control he could muster not to strike down the man holding the frightened woman in his grip. He reached for her arm and drew her away from her captor. To his surprise, she flung herself against his side and wrapped her arms around his waist. As she buried her face against his chest, he allowed his left arm to circle her waist, tucking her tightly against him. “She’s my woman,” he lied, wishing it were so. The man’s eyes narrowed, but he stepped back. “You shouldn’t let her go running around tempting a man to distraction like that. After all, if a man sees a naked ankle, can a naked thigh be far behind?” “You are trespassing. This land belongs to my family.” The man narrowed his eyes. “No, this land rightfully belongs to Henry Wakefield. He gave us permission to be here.” Anger simmered through him. Will would never give up this beautiful place. “He has no right to give you permission. My name is Herrington, and this land has been in my family for five generations. I do not take lightly to being called a liar.”

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The woman pressed to his side stiffened. He stroked her back reassuringly. If not for her, he’d take these lying, undisciplined oafs, but he didn’t want to do anything to frighten her more. Uncertainty flickered in his opponent’s eyes. “I suggest you take your leave.” The soldiers grumbled, but mounted their horses and left. Keern vaguely remembered his brother complaining about a greedy neighbor with an eye on their land. Could this Wakefield be telling others this pond belonged to him, giving them permission to use it as a way to solidify his claim? Would he keep whittling away at the edges of their property, expanding his own in the process? “They’re gone,” he said to the woman still clinging to him. The feel of her soft and pliant against him, the delicate floral smell of her hair as it wisped across her cheek, sent his hormones soaring. He hooked his finger beneath her chin and lifted until she looked into his face. Her eyes were glazed with terror, and he wished he’d skewered the bastard who’d torn away her peaceful bliss. Better yet, he wished he’d had his laser pistol and been able to fry every last one of them, but technology was forbidden here. The coalition had designated this planet as a conservation area, to be kept untouched by industry, pollution, and chemicals. Anything high-tech was deemed a threat to the natural balance of the world. Keern used to hate that policy, until he’d traveled to other worlds and seen how technology had changed society, damned near destroying many. Less than a half-hour ago, he’d watched this lovely woman bathing in the sparkling water, carefree as a creature of nature in her glorious nakedness. He’d felt a little guilty spying on her, but how could he resist? Her beauty surpassed that of any woman he’d ever seen. He could almost believe her to be a mythical being straight from one of the storybooks his mother used to read him when he was a boy.

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She gazed up at him, her blue eyes soft and dewy. “Thank you.” The words, like delicate petals, drifted from her lips. She looked like a woman wanting to be kissed. He slid his other arm around her and drew her body close to his. The memory of her pressed against him earlier, naked and dripping wet, tightened his body in arousal. He couldn’t help remembering that she was still naked beneath his black cloak. “Why don’t you thank me with a kiss?” he murmured.

Shena wanted to grant him more than a kiss. She’d never felt this way with a man before. Safe. Protected. She wanted to burrow into his arms and stay there forever. At her hesitation, he smiled encouragingly. “Surely you can grant me one kiss?”

One kiss. Yes, at least that. She drew her tongue around her lips to moisten them, then parted them slightly as she raised her hands to hold his face. His cheeks scratched slightly with the new growth of his beard, but she didn’t mind. The very masculinity of it stimulated her, made her feel more feminine. His eyes, the color of sun-gilt bronze, darkened as he watched her. She pushed herself onto her tiptoes to reach him, and he waited for her. When her lips touched his, she felt as if she would faint, the feeling was so painfully exciting. As though he sensed her weakness, his hands slid up her back and he pulled her closer to his body. She moved her lips on his, and he followed her lead, though she sensed he carefully controlled his movements. She felt the tip of his tongue slip across the seam of her mouth, then nudge with a delicate pressure. She opened, granting him access. His tongue slid inside her mouth, then caressed the inside of her lips. The delicate yet powerful sensation caught her breath. He pulled her tighter to him. Her breasts, crushed against the hardness of his well-muscled chest, swelled, the nipples tightening to hard buds. She longed to feel bare skin against hers.

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As though reading her mind, he skimmed his hand over her, then slipped it inside the cloak to cup her breast, and a choked sound of pleasure escaped her. His other hand pushed her cloak aside and cupped her bottom. He pulled her pelvis close to his body, and she felt the bulge of his arousal. She tensed, and he immediately loosened his hold, but his hand remained on her breast, warm, exciting, her nipple thrusting into his palm. As he parted from their kiss to gaze down at her, his hand shifted slightly on her breast, sending arrows of pleasure shimmering through her body. She knew she should pull away, should be frightened of him touching her, but his warm bronze eyes, filled with compassion and kindness, soothed her frazzled spirit. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” She couldn’t utter a word under the primal need raging through her, so she just nodded, then slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him into another kiss. His hands danced the length of her body as he eased her onto the soft grass beneath their feet. He untied the cloak and slowly peeled it back, holding her gaze the whole time. He smiled as he looked at her naked body, his gaze like liquid fire across the length of her. “My God, you’re beautiful.” She smiled back at him. No one had ever told her that. He kissed her lips, dipping his tongue inside her mouth, then moved to the crook of her neck. Slowly, he kissed down her chest and over the swell of her breast. She melted as his mouth captured her rigid nipple. Her eyelids fell closed as his hand found her other nipple and nurtured it to heightened arousal. Both her breasts wanted more. She wanted more. Had she said it out loud? She didn’t know or care. All that existed for her was the rise and fall of her breathing, the rigid need of her breasts, the overwhelming desire for something more. She just didn’t know what. He stroked her breasts, and she undulated to press more firmly into his hands. The rhythm of her

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labored breathing, the odd, whimpering sounds she made, only skimmed the edges of her consciousness. “It’s all right, sweetheart.” His calming words sluiced through the heated fever overtaking her. His hands fell away from her breasts, but his lips claimed hers, capturing the tiny sound of disappointment. Their only contact now was his mouth on hers, but his tongue sweeping across hers, and the ardent pressure of his lips, demanded her full attention. Her heated body longed for more, and an instant later she felt his body return. Naked now. She opened her eyes to look at him. His arms, thick and corded with muscle, settled on either side of her, suspending him over her. Her nipples peaked as the light coating of coarse hair sprinkled across his tanned chest stimulated those sensitized nubs. She dragged her hands across his strong, broad shoulders, awed by the feel of his steel-hard muscles rippling under her fingertips. Then, with a flash of frigid water through her veins, she froze at the feel of his hard shaft falling across her belly. Her eyes shot wide open. He eased his pelvis away from her and placed the tip of his cock against the moist opening of her vagina. She sucked in a breath as panic tore through her, and she planted her hands firmly on his chest. “No.” The word, choked out, was hardly audible. He paused. “What is it, neisha?” The tip of his immense cock sat cradled in the soft folds of her, waiting for entry. One shift of his huge, muscular body and he’d be inside her.

Open, a voice inside her screamed. Pull him in. Feel the power of a man inside you. He kissed her temple, still poised to fill her. Fear churned through her insides. Oh God, what if he didn’t stop? “Tell me.”

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The word her father had used so many times to describe this act, the word the soldiers around her always seemed to use with such relish, the word she had come to fear so completely, came unbidden to her mind. “Don’t fuck me,” she choked out. His thick brown eyebrows lowered, darkening his expression, and he eased away, then settled beside her. He stroked her hair behind her ear. “I prefer to call it making love. Where did you hear a word like that?” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I would never fuck you, my little wood nymph.” He kissed her gently, the tender brush of his lips warming her. “And I won’t make love to you unless you want me to.” He deepened the kiss, and heat flooded through her “Even though I feel I might die of need.” He smiled in an attempt to reassure her. “Is it okay if I do this?” He stroked her breast. She nodded at the exquisite pleasure. “And this?” He flicked her other nipple with his tongue, and she moaned. “How much do you know about making love?” “I know that it means pain. When a man ... enters a woman, she screams and bleeds.” Shena remembered when her father had decided to punish the young housekeeper. He had tied her hands above her head and fastened the rope to a large hook on the ceiling, then given her to the soldiers. He’d made Shena watch, telling her that would be her punishment if she ever allowed a man to take her virginity. She remembered how, afterward, the girl had hung from the rope, her feet dangling loosely, blood streaming down her thighs. “You’re trembling.” His voice brought her back to the moment. He gathered her in his arms and held her close. “You know, it doesn’t have to be like that.” “I ... I can’t. My father told me ... if I ever let a man ...” She sobbed.

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He stroked her hair. “It’s all right. I told you I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want me to.” He folded her in his arms and rocked her. “Do you trust me?” He whispered the question in her ear, setting the fine hairs along the side of her neck on end. “Yes,” she breathed. It was strange, but she knew she did trust him. “Then let me show you another way to take pleasure.” He eased her back and stroked the length of her body, from nape to hip. Very slowly, he moved his hand to her down-covered mound. “Will you let me? I promise I won’t do anything to harm your maidenhead.” She nodded. He stroked her fur, then slid his finger between her intimate folds, skimming the surface. The exquisite feel of it nearly overcame her. He stroked again, and her breath caught. He kissed her belly, then dipped his tongue into her navel. His kisses drifted lower until she felt his tongue slide through her curls, then lick the moist slit between her thighs. His tongue entered her, twirling and cajoling, licking and thrusting. His mouth shifted, covering the rigid nub of her clitoris. She cried out in pleasure. He dabbed and flicked as his fingers slipped to her slit, stroking until the pressure building within her threatened to explode. “Do you like this, neisha?” he paused to ask. “Yes.” His mouth claimed her again, and she cried out. Heat raged through every part of her, inundating her senses with burning pleasure, building to an impossible level, then bursting into ecstatic flames. Her body, which had been clenched tight, relaxed. He stroked her hair. She gazed up at him. “That was incredible.”

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His smile widened. “I’m glad you approve.” He kissed her, gentle and sweet. He tasted of her, and that excited her. He had given her so much pleasure, but she had done nothing for him. She noticed his cock still stood tall, swollen with need. “What about you?” He followed her gaze and grinned. “You have left me in a state, neisha.” He nuzzled her neck. “But don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with it. Just give me a minute.” He lay back on the grass and wrapped his hand around his erection and pumped. That wasn’t good enough for her.

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Chapter Three

Keern watched her inquisitive expression turn to one of determination. She rolled and pushed herself to her knees. Her breasts shifted enticingly as she reached for his wrist and stilled his movement. “I want to do something for you now.” She drew his hand to her mouth and planted a delicate kiss in his palm. Her gentle, moist lips brushed him where his penis had just been. His groin tightened at the thought of her lips brushing against his oh-so-ready cock, her mouth surrounding his rigid member and sucking it deep within. Of course, she wouldn’t do that, and he wouldn’t ask her to. She reached out with a tentative finger and touched his huge erection, then stroked the length of him with her fingertip. Her delicate, inexperienced touch sent jolting, almost painful need through Keern. And the way she looked at it! Her wide, intent gaze filled with curiosity. He almost burst on the spot. Clenching his groin muscles, he held back, determined to experience the full pleasure of her exploration. “What can I do?”

You can put it in your mouth. He smiled. “Well, you can touch it like you are now. You can stroke it.”

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She shifted to a kneeling position and curled her fingers around him. He drew in a deep, calming breath. “Like this?” He nodded, then guided her hand the length of him, showing her how to stroke, back and forth.

Shena reveled in the feel of the skin, soft as kid leather, sliding over rock-hard muscle. It felt so powerful, and she was in control of it. She stroked, listening to his breath quicken. His eyes fell closed and she watched him, stretched out on the ground, totally naked, responding to her touch. This strong, powerful, incredibly handsome man seemed to be totally at the mercy of her touch. She was giving him pleasure. It made her want to climb on top of him and drive his shaft deep inside her. To move up and down on him, like her hand did now, but using intimate muscles to squeeze and pleasure him. His hand stilled hers. “Sweetheart, it’s not a race. The longer it lasts, the longer we enjoy the pleasure.” She smiled and drew her hand away, loving how he teased her. She’d never known a man to be playful or show a gentle nature. She touched him with the tip of her finger and dragged it the length of him, then over the head and back down, loving the way his breath caught as she touched the tip. She had never seen a penis close up, had certainly never wanted to touch one, but with this man, she felt safe. She wanted to take this opportunity to satisfy her curiosity, to touch it, explore it. And she wanted to give him pleasure. She touched the tip again, spiraled down and traced the lower ridge around the head, then stroked underneath. From his broken breaths and the little spasms of his body, she

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could tell he enjoyed it immensely. She licked the tip of her finger and dragged it over his tip again. His eyes flipped open. “Oh, for a moment I thought ...” He shook his head, smiling, but his eyes remained open, watching her. She licked her finger again and dragged it around the tip of him. His eyelids drifted half closed. “You know,” he said, his voice husky, “some women ...” He trailed off, as if he had a suggestion he was hesitant to make. “Yes, what is it?” she asked eagerly. “Some women like to touch it with their mouth.” He paused, watching her reaction with hopeful anticipation. He had touched her with his mouth and it had brought her exquisite pleasure. She wanted to do that for him. She leaned forward and kissed the tip of him, then moved down to the fur-covered sacks at the base, then back up. With the tip of her tongue, she dabbed at the small opening, tracing it with tiny circles. Encouraged by his soft moans, she licked him like a stick of candy, lapping at every part of his cock. The head, the shaft, the sacs. She loved the feel of his contours under her tongue and his reaction when she licked the ridge under the head. She teased him by tracing around and around, until his breathing was ragged. “I promised myself I wouldn’t ask you this, but ...” “What is it?” She wanted to please him. “I would love it if you took it inside your mouth,” he murmured, his voice rough with passion. She smiled and licked the tip of him, opened her mouth, and eased him inside slowly. With the entire head inside her mouth, she lapped her tongue around him, then wiggled it over the tip. He groaned.

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“Sweetheart, at some point I’m going to explode.” His breath caught as she sucked on him, pulling him in deeper. His hands captured her head, stilling her. “I’ll release an ... emission. If you don’t want that in your mouth ...” She wrapped her hands around the base of him and stroked upward, following her mouth as she released him, keeping as much of him as she could in the warm, wet prison of her hands. “You mean your seed, don’t you?” He stroked her cheek with the tip of his finger. “That’s right.” “It won’t hurt me. Right?” “That’s right. You could swallow it if you wanted.” She smiled. “Fine.” She slipped over him again and moved, up and down, licking and cajoling, watching his face contort in pleasure. She squeezed and sucked while she gently grasped his furred balls in her hands. He groaned, and she moved faster, squeezed more firmly, drawing him deeper and deeper inside her mouth. “Oh, God, sweetheart. Now.” He grunted and moaned deeply. She felt warm liquid spurt inside her mouth, warming and exciting her. She sucked and swallowed, continuing to stroke his balls. Finally, his taut, clenching muscles relaxed, and his huge rod stilled and slowly diminished in size. She eased it from her mouth and laid it on his belly, enjoying the sated expression on his face. He drew her to his side, and she curled up next to him as he held her close and kissed her forehead. “That was incredible.” She loved that he echoed her words. As if the pleasure she’d given him matched what he’d given her. She hoped it was true. She had never felt as safe as she did right then in his arms. Never again would she know such bliss.

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But right now, she would enjoy it with every part of her being. After several long, languorous moments, he rolled to his side and propped his head on his elbow, gazing down at her. His roguish smile and the glint in his eyes sent warmth shimmering through her. “I don’t even know your name.” “Shena.” “That’s a lovely name.” He stroked her hair behind her ear. “Shena, I want to get to know you better.” Warmth curled through her belly at his words. “I’m returning to my family home after several years of traveling, and I can’t think of a better way to settle in than to court a lovely young woman like you. Especially since I am so overwhelmingly attracted to you.” A gentle flush of pleasure traveled across her cheeks. “I want to meet your family and state my intentions to your father.” His words jolted her like a slap across the face. Panic overwhelmed her at the thought of him meeting her father. She tried to gather her thoughts, muddled by the closeness of his hard, male body and the soft, loving look in his eyes. When she was sixteen, a young man had shown interest in her. His name had been Jonediah. One evening, she had met him by the river, and he’d held her hand while they’d enjoyed a pleasant walk together. He had been about to kiss her when her father found them. Horrified, she had watched while her father beat Jonediah senseless, almost killing him. Afterward, he’d told her if she ever showed interest in a man again, other than one he’d chosen for her, he would kill him. Keern leaned forward and kissed along her jaw, then murmured into her ear, “If things go as well as I expect they will, I can see us exploring more pleasures of the body ... in our wedding bed.”

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She stiffened and pulled away from him, then pushed herself to her feet. She would not allow him to be hurt because of her, but if she explained what had happened to Jonediah, he would probably try to rescue her from her father. Such recklessness would cost him his life. She needed a reason why she couldn’t see him. “What’s wrong, Shena?” She gathered her clothes and pulled them on. “What is your name?” she asked. He stood up and retrieved his own clothing. He smiled. “Keern.” “And your last name is Herrington.” Her throat tight, Shena watched as he tugged on his pants, hiding his magnificent maleness. “Yes, that’s right.” He pulled on his shirt, hiding his broad, muscled chest from view. She turned away. “I am a Wakefield. My father would never accept you.” “Ah, is that it.” He reached for her, but she slid away. “If it’s about this pond, I’d gladly give it to him if it would help win your hand.” “It’s not about a stupid pond,” she grated. “If my father knew what we had done here today, he would kill you. Just forget about me.” “I won’t forget you,” he said with determination. “And you won’t forget this.” He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, then kissed her. Her ragged breathing revealed all too clearly how he affected her. Staring at his fierce expression, she knew he would not listen. He would chase her -- to his death. At the thought of him skewered by her father’s sword, his life seeping away, agony sliced through her. She had to stop him. She settled her weight evenly on her feet and slowed her breathing, feeling it move through her. Sometimes, when she was very afraid, she could reach within, to a strength deep inside herself, and, distancing herself from reality, draw on calm she did not feel. She thought about her father and the cold visage he displayed to the world, and she emulated it. She had to drive Keern away.

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Keern watched her expression change. Calm, poised, sharp as a dagger. She had transformed from his beautiful wood nymph to a cold, manipulative woman. “Did you really believe the role I played this afternoon?” The mockery in her words astonished him. His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?” “I enjoy a romp with a stranger every now and again, and you were very good, but it was for one afternoon. That’s all.” “You’re telling me that what we shared was all a lie?” “Of course. I enjoy playing the helpless virgin sometimes. I didn’t think you’d really fallen for it. I thought you knew we were playacting.” His gut clenched. “I don’t believe you.” How could he? She had enchanted him. Her sweetness had melted through him, totally claiming his heart. The memory of Kolanna and how she had fooled him with her sweet, loving act stormed through his thoughts. Hadn’t that agonizing incident taught him that he couldn’t trust a woman? Any woman. She raised her eyebrows. “I don’t care if you believe me, or not. I’m tired of this game. And I’m tired of you.” She shot him a look of disdain. “Stay away from me, or I’ll tell my father you took me against my will.” Her clipped, indifferent words cut through him. “Then he’ll find you and kill you.” He grabbed her arm. “Why would you do that?” She glared at his hand around her arm and jerked it away. “Because I don’t want you to come near me again.”

*****

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Keern rode toward his family home still seething at the memory of Shena and her trickery. Her transformation had shocked him. How had he been so completely fooled by her act? Why hadn’t he wondered at her willingness to do the things they’d done together? Of course, he’d not been thinking with his head so much as with his groin. She had backed off on the idea of intercourse, but then, she’d be shrewd enough to avoid pregnancy. When he’d received the announcement of Jordan’s wedding, nostalgia had started within him and along with it a desire to return to his place of birth and settle down like his two brothers, to find a gentle woman to marry, to start a family. Shena’s sweet innocence had been so appealing. He had seen in her what he’d wanted to see in a woman. As he rode toward the iron gates of his home, he heard the horn sound and whoops from the guards. His name sounded on their lips, along with shouts and hurrahs. He smiled as his gaze drifted along the gravel path curving through the meadow of wildflowers to the large stone-and-timber house about a half-kilometer up the hill. It was good to be home. The gates opened, and as he rode through, people rushed to the gate to greet him. “Keern, you’ve finally arrived.” “Will.” It had been a long time since he’d seen his older brother. A few more lines crinkled around Will’s eyes, but other than that he hadn’t changed. Keern dismounted his horse, handing the reins to an eager pair of hands. He strode toward Will and held out his hand in the offer of a handshake, but his brother scoffed and dragged him into a bear hug, pounding his back for good measure. “Come, the women want to see you.” “And what about Jordan?” A huge grin split Will’s face. “Yes, him, too.” They walked toward their family home, built with their father’s own hands.

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“He’s not too busy dreaming of his wife-to-be?” “Oh, I think he can spare a few moments for his older brother.” Jordan, their younger brother, was to wed four days hence. Keern had made the trip to join in the festivities. He hadn’t told them yet that he intended to stay, not wanting to disappoint them if he changed his mind. “We leave on the morrow to Chamberlan. Kristinna’s family is looking forward to meeting you.” “Brother, here you are.” At Jordan’s voice, Keern spun around. He smiled at the sight of his younger brother. He stood as tall as Keern himself, a man now. Keern had known the lad must have grown, but with the reality staring him in the face, he felt sadness at having missed so much. Jordan threw his arms around Keern in the same bear hug as Will’s. “So, the startraveler returns.” “As if I’d miss my favorite brother’s wedding.” “That’s what you said when you came for mine!” Will cut in. Keern flung his arms around both their shoulders, laughing. “Of course. You’re both my favorite.” At the house, the women greeted him with exuberance. Will’s wife, Jenna, a tall, graceful woman, gave him a warm hug. Their cousin, Helena, pleasantly round and eversmiling, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and her husband, Jacob, shook his hand. Entering the house triggered a plethora of painful memories. Their father had died when Keern was six years old. Will had become the head of the household at a young age, and they had all pulled together as a family, becoming closer than most. Despite that closeness, Keern had withdrawn after his mother’s death.

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Where Will’s job was to run the family, Keern had decided his was to protect their mother. He was determined he could protect her from anything, if he tried hard enough -and he put his heart and soul into doing just that. The illness, however, had slipped right past him, stealing her away with a finality that had devastated Keern. After her death, everything around him had reminded him of her. The rocking chair where she’d rocked him in her arms as a child, the woods where they’d gone for long walks and talks about life, the fields where they’d worked together, shoulder to shoulder, alongside his brothers. He had felt strangely betrayed by her. Abandoned. Although he knew logically she’d had no choice, his heart had known nothing of logic. So once he’d turned sixteen, he left the family and traveled -- partly to escape his pain, partly to understand the universe around him. In that universe, he’d found new experiences, new worlds, and excitement beyond measure. What he hadn’t found was love, nor anything that could replace the sense of belonging that he felt when he was with his family. Returning to this place now, after all these years, still prodded him with painful memories, but they were dulled. He intended to dredge up the happy memories and heap them on top. To embrace his family and move forward with his life. To finally heal the wounds. The women had arranged a wonderful feast to welcome Keern. He spent the evening in the glow of warm family conversation. As the hour grew late and the fire warmed his outside while the wine warmed his insides, his thoughts turned back to Shena. Another painful memory. He’d never see her again, if fate was kind, but somehow he knew he’d never forget her. He remembered the sweet scent of her hair, the softness of her skin, the delicate taste of her body.

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“That is my wife’s favorite goblet, so I think I shall retrieve it from you before you snap it in two.” At Will’s words, Keern shifted his gaze from the fire to the glass he held, his hand clenched tightly around it. He allowed Will to take it and set it gently on the rough wood table in front of him. Will settled in the chair beside him. “Where were your thoughts, brother?” “On a woman.” Will chuckled. “I see. Anyone in particular?” Keern scowled. “Do you know Shena Wakefield?”

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Chapter Four

Will’s brows rose. “Wakefield, eh? I know Henry Wakefield has a daughter.” He swirled the wine in his goblet. “That’s right,” Jordan chimed in. “In her twenties. Pretty thing, from what I’ve heard, but he pretty much keeps her under wraps. Planning to make a profitable marriage, I’ll wager.” “How do you know of her?” Will asked. “I stopped for water at Sersa’s pond, and I saw her there.” The memory of her naked, glistening body flashed into his mind. Need pulsed through him, impossible to ignore. His jaw clenched. “She obviously had an effect on you.” Keern’s glance darted to Will, but relaxed at his brother’s amused expression. “The woman is lovely to look upon, but she has the disposition of a devil,” Keern responded. “That’s a Wakefield, all right.” Jenna poured more wine in his goblet and sat down across from him.

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“The father’s a mean one,” Helena chimed in. “He treats his servants more like slaves, and we’ve heard of terrible cruelties.” “Plus, he hates us,” Will added. Keern glanced across at him. “Why?” “Because he wants our land,” Jordan answered. “He’d love any excuse to wipe us off the face of the planet. But he knows the other landowners would band against him. He’s got far too hungry an eye as it is.” “He’s always been hungry for land, ’tis true,” Helena said. “But you know, the reason he hates us is more personal. His wife used to come here a lot, needin’ to get away from his foul moods. Theirs was an arranged marriage, you know?” “That’s right.” Jenna poured some more wine, then sat down beside Will. “The rumor is, he fell in love with her at first sight, and his father, who gave his son anything he asked for, arranged the marriage. Young Wakefield must have believed the woman would fall madly in love with him, but in truth, he frightened her with his aggressive ways.” Will tipped his glass to his lips, then set it on the table. “I remember how, when I was young, she’d come to visit with her baby daughter.” “Why don’t I remember any of this?” Keern asked. Will leaned forward, a wide smile on his face, and tousled Keern’s hair as if he were a little boy. “Because, brother, you were barely three years old.” Keern ran his fingers through his hair to smooth it back in place. “I still don’t see why he hates us.” “Because,” Jenna said, “he believed she and your uncle were having an affair.” Keern’s gaze jolted back to Will, who nodded. “Uncle Jeb?” Keern could scarcely believe it. He didn’t remember his uncle well -- he’d disappeared when Keern was very young -- but from everything he’d ever heard about him,

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he’d believed his uncle to be an honorable man. Certainly not someone Keern would suspect of having an affair with another man’s wife. Keern had always admired Uncle Jeb, especially his sense of adventure. Keern had followed his uncle’s example when choosing to travel across the stars, undaunted by the fact that everyone assumed Jeb had died on some exotic planet, since no one had ever heard from him again. “I’m not saying he actually had an affair with her,” Will said. “Wakefield was jealous, domineering, and extremely possessive of his wife. She was actually afraid of him.” Anger flared in his eyes. Jenna placed a hand on her husband’s arm and stroked gently. “Realize he loved this woman and she didn’t return his love. His ego would demand he find a reason to justify her not loving him. Another man was a simple solution.” “And Uncle Jeb actually did love her.” At Will’s quiet words, everyone turned to stare at him. “He didn’t act on it, but I overheard our mother and father talking. They were convinced he loved her. I’m sure that’s why he left. He couldn’t bear to be so close to her and not be with her.” “She died of Gahdagha flu soon after that,” Jenna added. Helena leaned forward conspiratorially. “Or so they say.” “Helena.” Jenna shook her head. “Those are just rumors.” “True.” Helena’s fingers toyed with the stem of her goblet. “Some rumors say that Wakefield killed her. Others say that he sold her to the traders.” Keern leaned back in his chair, disturbed by the turn of the conversation. “That doesn’t make sense. How could a man do that to his own wife?” Jacob sighed heavily. “You really don’t know Henry Wakefield, cousin.” The others nodded their heads. Keern’s gut twisted inside. With a father like that, no wonder Shena had learned to be so callous.

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Will grinned, in contrast to the long faces around the table. “I must admit, it would be a lovely irony if you and his daughter had taken a shine to each other and wound up in wedlock. Then our two lands would be joined, but not in the way he had hoped.” Keern swallowed some wine, pushing aside heart-rending images of Shena joining hands with him in front of a flower-veiled altar, a delicate blush on her cheeks as she leaned toward him for the wedding kiss. A more vivid blush covering her entire body as they joined in the wedding bed. His body tightened, and he longed to feel her gentle curves again, but this time while thrusting into her body. He longed to make her completely and forever his. Slamming those thoughts into the dark recesses of his mind, he plunked his glass onto the table. “Talking about wedlock, shouldn’t we be discussing Jordan’s impending doom -- I mean, joining?” The men roared in laughter under the glares of the women, then began a hearty discussion of the events to come.

***** Keern awoke with a start. Actually, with a jolting release. He became aware of a warm stickiness on his stomach.

Dehn’ra, another dream about that witch of a woman. He flung aside the covers and stormed to the window. Moonlight illuminated the rolling hills of unfamiliar land surrounding the manor of Jordan’s new family. He raked his fingers through his hair. Over the past four days, Keern had tried to keep his focus on his family and the wedding of his brother. There was much to keep him busy, but still he couldn’t keep visions

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of his beautiful wood nymph from his mind. How could she have turned out to be such a brittle, scheming woman? Night after night, in the depths of his dreams, he felt her soft, white skin beneath his fingers, heard her delicious moans of pleasure, and he exploded in passion. And every morning, he awoke to wet evidence of his folly. He had started to hate her, as much for his primal, loathsome longing as for her callous actions. He would forget her. With time. Today had been Jordan’s wedding day. Tomorrow, they’d be back on the road. Once he was home again, he would find a way to get Shena out of his mind.

***** Shena awoke with a start as someone ripped back her covers and hauled her out of bed. As her bleary vision focused, she realized the rough-handed man dragging her along the cold marble floor, barely waiting for her stumbling feet to keep up, was Bahrd, the most brutal of her father’s men. He always leered at her as though waiting for the opportunity to strip her naked and violate her. The skin on her arms pebbled in goose bumps, and her chest constricted so tightly she could barely breathe. Oh, God, had that opportunity arrived? A semi-toothless grin claimed his face as his gaze raked across her, as though he read her thoughts. “Yer father wants te see ye.” Her anxiety did not diminish at that revelation. As he dragged her down the corridor, she wondered if this had anything to do with Keern. Four painful days ago, she had left Keern with that dreadful, but necessary, lie. She’d felt violently ill as she’d raced home. She’d stolen up to her room and curled into a ball on her bed, sobbing.


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Over the next few days, the image of Keern’s handsome face, filled with loathing, remained burned in her memory. Yet in her dreams, he bound her in a web of sexual desire and took out his anger in beautiful bouts of passion. Bahrd pushed open the door to her father’s study, and she cringed as he shoved her inside. “There you are, daughter.” Her father sat in the tall brown leather chair behind his shiny ebony desk. He removed his glasses and placed them on the book he’d been reading. A fire blazed in the marble fireplace, radiating a warm glow. He rubbed his well-trimmed beard, then tapped his long, elegant fingers on the desktop as he watched her, light dancing across the navy silk of his vest. His composure didn’t fool her. In his ice-grey eyes, she saw danger. He hid it well from others, but she had learned to read the intensity of his anger within the calm depths. “I’ve heard you’ve been meeting with a man.” She remained silent, unable to utter a word. How had he found out about Keern? He pushed himself to his feet and strode toward her. “You were seen at Sersa’s pond with a man who claimed you were his woman. Is this true?” She glanced at the floor. He struck her swiftly, a bone-jarring blow to the jaw, knocking her off her feet. Pain jolted through her hands as they hit the hard stone floor, breaking her fall. “Is it true?” The tone of his words, strung taut as a tightrope, demanded an answer. She straightened her arms, pushing herself onto her hip, legs curled to one side. “No, not exactly. I --”

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He kicked her in the ribs, knocking her to the ground again. Blinding pain shot through her, and she could barely suck in enough air to keep from passing out. “Not exactly?” he sneered. “Does that mean you’re not exactly a virgin anymore?” “I am,” she choked, then coughed, trying to catch her breath. “I am still a virgin.” His eyes narrowed as he glared down at her. “Even if you are, Drakemont doesn’t believe it. He’ll never wed you now.” Her father had been intending to marry her off to Reginald Drakemont? He was a foulsmelling miser of a man. Cruel and demanding. He frightened her almost as much as her father. He kicked her again. Tears welled in her eyes from the exploding pain in her chest. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, forcing her to look into his eyes. Into torrents of rage. “I wanted that marriage. I wanted the platinum he offered for you and the alliance between our families. Our combined forces could have dominated the entire region.” He released her with such force, her face smacked against the cold, hard floor. Pain lanced through her cheekbone, and she shuddered as she suppressed a sob. “Now you’ve ruined it.” He strode away from her, then stood staring out the window, his hands clasped behind his back. “I’m told the man you were with was a Herrington. Is that also true, daughter?” She pushed herself to her knees. “I’d never seen him before, but he protected me from some soldiers who came along.” “Drakemont’s soldiers. Who I’m sure you had no reason to fear.” So that’s how he knew. One of them must have recognized her. “Was his name Herrington?” he demanded. “I don’t know.”

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“Don’t lie to me. Right now, your usefulness to me is close to nil since everyone believes you are soiled. If you lie to me about this, then I must believe you’re lying to me about being a virgin.” His voice grew very quiet. “That means I have no choice but to follow through on my promise.” He glanced toward Bahrd, who stood at the door, grinning at her. She trembled, remembering the young housekeeper. Remembering Bahrd violently thrusting into her. Remembering her father’s promise that she would suffer the same fate should she ever lose her virginity -- and her usefulness to him. “You have one more chance to answer truthfully. Was his name Herrington?” She hesitated, and he dragged her to her feet and propelled her toward the door and the sneering lout. Oh, God, no. The thought of those rough brutes and what they’d do to her ... She couldn’t ... “Yes,” she cried, hating herself for her weakness. “His name was Herrington.” He released her arm and she fell to the floor. “Those dehn’rad Herringtons will pay dearly for this.” She quivered at his words. Saying anything to try to help Keern would only make matters worse. If her father suspected she had feelings for the man, he would relish the revenge even more. She could only pray Keern would survive her father’s wrath. He shoved her at Bahrd. “Keep an eye on her until I get back. I don’t want her talking to anyone.” Bahrd wrenched her arm from her father’s grasp and dragged her through the door.

***** “For heaven’s sake, Keern. Go ride ahead. Your restlessness is unsettling the horses.”

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Keern glanced at the carriage carrying the women, then back to Will riding horseback beside him. What if thieves attacked? “But if there’s trouble --” “There won’t be. Even if there were, we could handle it.” Keern nodded to Will, thankful for his brother’s instincts. His brothers and cousin, the carriage driver, and the five soldiers accompanying them should be able to handle any danger that came their way. Keeping pace with the carriage was a difficult task today. He wanted to feel speed, to allow the wind to sweep his brain clean of unwanted memories. If he’d been on Kulasta, the planet he’d called home for the past two years, he’d have climbed into his air car and sped up to two hundred kilometers per hour, letting the landscape fly past in a blur. “I’ll ride as far as the hill, then wait for you.” “Go.” Will waved him away. “As far as you need.” Keern rode and rode, forgetting about time and distance. When he reached the valley, he stopped and dismounted, then sat on a rock and listened to the garals twittering and warbling in the trees. A cacophony of sound surrounded him. But a distant noise drew his attention. Listening intently, he thought he heard shouts, then a scream. He bounded onto his horse and rode up the hill. At the top, his heart lunged to his throat as he saw the carriage halted, surrounded by armed men. Swords clacked against each other as men battled. Keern rode at top speed, returning to protect his family. These men didn’t look like thieves. Why in the world were they attacking? Two of Will’s soldiers were down, and he saw one of the enemy thrust his sword through the driver. Quickly, Keern took down two of the attackers as he fought his way to his family. His heart leaped as he saw the man who appeared to be the leader lunge a sword into Will’s chest.

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“No!” Keern raced toward the man, sword raised. The man jerked aside in time to dodge Keern’s blade, then turned his horse and fled. The others followed. Keern realized there were only three of them left, to their five still standing. “Jordan, stay with Will and the women. Men, follow me,” Keern commanded, then galloped after the retreating figures. The soldiers followed his lead. The fleeing men scattered. “I’ll follow the leader; you men get the others,” Keern directed. After a few miles, he caught up with the leader and swung his sword, wounding the man’s left arm and driving him off his horse. He ran, but Keern leaped from his horse, knocking the man to the ground. “Who the hell are you, and why did you attack us?” Keern demanded. “I am Henry Wakefield.” He pushed himself to his feet, throwing a look of disdain Keern’s way. “One of you Herrington devils defiled my daughter.”

Wakefield. Shena’s father. “Why do you believe that?” “My daughter told me.” Shena had lied about their encounter, just as she’d threatened. That witch had caused Will’s death! Wakefield’s eyes narrowed, and he raised his sword. “It was you, wasn’t it?” His eyes filled with rage and he lunged at Keern, swinging wildly. Keern easily countered, forcing the man backward. They fought hard for several minutes, but Keern dodged Wakefield’s final thrust and sank his sword squarely into the man’s chest.

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Keern gained no satisfaction from Wakefield’s death. It wouldn’t bring Will back. Nothing would bring Will back. Despair gripped him in an awful, frigid hold. His brother was dead. And Shena had been the cause. He would never forgive her for what she’d done. And somehow, he would find a way to make her pay.

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Chapter Five

Keern slung Wakefield’s body over the back of his horse, tied it down, and raced back to his family. The women sat weeping in the back of the carriage, with Will’s body across Jenna’s lap. One of the soldiers had already returned, one of Wakefield’s men still draped over the back of his horse, and was helping their cousin Jacob lay the bodies out along the side of the road. A few minutes later, the others returned. Keern desperately wanted to ride ahead, to take Wakefield’s body and dump it on the chief constable, then race to Wakefield’s house and drag Shena to prison. He wasn’t sure what the charges would be, but there must be some way to punish her for causing Will’s death. But Keern wouldn’t leave his family now. Thoughts of Shena had sent him riding ahead a mere hour ago, taking him away when he was most needed. If he hadn’t gone ahead, maybe Will would still be alive.

***** Keern slammed his fist on the official’s desk. “Chief Constable Murray, Shena Wakefield is responsible for Will’s death.”

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The man leaned forward in his chair, his steel-blue eyes clashing with Keern’s. “Mr. Herrington, if she didn’t wield the sword, then I don’t see how I can arrest her.” Jacob clutched Keern’s arm. Keern eased back at the gentle pressure from his cousin’s hold. The constable knew Jacob. Maybe he could get somewhere. “Wade, can you at least bring her in for questioning?” The man’s flashing eyes lost their edge as they shifted to Jacob. Chief Constable Murray took a deep breath. Keern lowered himself into one of the leather chairs facing the desk, then glanced out the large windows on the adjacent wall. The sun had disappeared behind the trees, and the clouds above them were lined in pink and purple. “Jacob, look, I’ve got to ride out and tell the girl about her father. You and your cousin can ride with me, as long as you keep him in line.” Keern fumed, but knew it wasn’t really directed at this man, but at Shena. The woman who had betrayed him and cost him his brother.

Keern, Jacob, and Chief Constable Murray arrived at the Wakefield house after nightfall. A guard let them in the front gate, and they rode on to the house. In the light of Aos, the largest moon circling Tarun, the place appeared cold and sinister. The branches of the large agoba trees arched outward, casting looming shadows across the enormous house and the stone pathway leading to it. They approached the huge, curved wooden doors, and Murray grabbed the brass knocker, rapping it against the door, sharp and loud. A long time passed, and he rapped again. Finally, the large door creaked open, revealing a burly man almost two meters in height, with a straggly brown beard and equally straggly, shoulder-length hair. “Bahrd, I’ve come with bad news,” Murray said. “Henry Wakefield is dead.”


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The man’s eyes darkened as he scowled. “I’ve come to talk to his daughter,” Murray continued. The man’s face closed up. “Can’t say I know where she be.” “Then you’d better find her,” Keern demanded. The man’s shoulders squared and he leaned forward. “And who’s going to make me?” Keern started forward, but Jacob grabbed his arm. “Bahrd,” Murray interjected, “I need to speak with her. Go find her.” The man glared at Keern, then glanced back to Murray. “I don’t think lookin’ll turn her up, Chief.” “Do you think she’ll turn up by tomorrow morning?” Bahrd shrugged. “I see. Let’s put it this way. I want her at the courthouse by nine tomorrow morning, or I’ll come out looking for her. Got it?” The large man shrugged again. “Whatever ye say, Chief.” Keern itched to plow past the man and search the house room by room until he found the lying bitch, but that wouldn’t get him anywhere right now. He followed the chief constable and Jacob away from the Wakefield house. Tomorrow, he would see Shena again. His heart stumbled a little at the thought, an image of her sweet, smiling face swirling through his head, which just cranked his anger up a notch.

Shena had been awakened by the loud knocking, not that she’d been sleeping very heavily, with Bahrd hanging around her door, watching her. She heard men’s voices outside, but couldn’t hear their words. At the thunderous sound of Bahrd’s boots on the wooden stairs, she clung to her covers, watching the door.

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He appeared in the doorway, a gigantic, looming shape backlit by the moonlight from the large window over the stairs. “Looks like yer an orphan, lass.” He stepped toward her and dragged the covers from her body. She lay on the bed, shivering in her light cotton nightgown. His gaze raked over her. “I been wantin’ a piece o’ that for a longen now.” His hand rested on her thigh and slowly slid upward. She scrambled up the bed, leaving his hand behind. He grabbed her ankles and dragged her back down, then flung his arms wide, opening her legs. The feral gleam in his eyes jabbed at the deepest fears squirming inside her. “What do you mean, I’m an orphan?” “What do ye think I mean, girl? Yer father is dead. Killed by one of them Herringtons. But not afore he killed the one he was after, I’d wager.” Shock pummeled through her. Her father was dead. Was Keern dead, too? Her heart constricted, and sharp pain lanced through her. Bahrd’s grunt dragged her back to her current situation. With her father gone, she would be at the mercy of the soldiers. Legally, she now owned her father’s holdings, but she knew as soon as her father’s soldiers heard of his death, they’d strip the property bare and take off. She was sure they wouldn’t hesitate to take their pleasure from her before they left. Bahrd released one of her ankles, then tugged his belt strap and released it from the buckle. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest. Her only chance was to appeal to Bahrd’s greed. “Do you really want to do this?” “Oh, yeah.” He tugged the zipper down on his pants. “I want to do it every way possible, then watch while the others do it.”

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“You know, the slavers will pay a lot more for me as a virgin. My father always told me so.” She made her voice as persuasive as she could. “Eh?” He paused and rubbed his chin. “The slavers?” “You are going to sell me, right? I mean, if you don’t, one of the others will, but you’re here first. If you can sell me as a virgin ...” “You’re just sayin’ this ’cause you don’t want to get fucked.” “Of course.” A tinge of anger colored her voice, hard as she tried to conceal it. “But it’s also true. You and I will both do better if you leave me untouched and take me to the slavers.” Never in her wildest dreams had she ever thought she’d be begging to be taken to the slavers, but right now, that threat was a lot more distant than the leering Bahrd and the prospect of her father’s men climbing on top of her one after another. Bahrd grunted, staring at her, his gaze sliding up her legs and pinning on the crotch of her white panties, fully exposed. She held her breath, watching him. “You know, with the money you get for me, you can enjoy a lot of women at the brothel.” Finally, he grunted and grabbed her wrist, then dragged her through the house, out the back door to the closed wagon. He pushed aside the tarp covering the door and shoved her through, then bound her wrists and ankles. He wrapped a gag around her mouth. He disappeared back into the house and reappeared about a half-hour later to fling a large cloth bag beside her. It made a loud clunk when it hit the wagon floor. Probably filled with all kinds of treasures and whatever money he’d found in her father’s office. She heard him attaching the horse to the wagon, and a few moments later, the wagon jerked forward. Hours passed and she must have dozed off, but a sudden lurch of the wagon jolted her wide awake. Nightmares of men pawing at her, their large, rough hands touching every

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intimate part of her, left her in a sweat. The rope around her wrists and ankles cut into her skin. The gag was damp with saliva. Outside, the throng of a city market sounded around them. Vendors calling out to attract buyers, carts rumbling past the main road, horses snorting. The smells of fruits, spices, and cooked meat assailed her. They were close. She cringed, her whole body rigid with fear. Her shaky stomach quaked, almost to the point of vomiting. The noise reached a crescendo, then slowly diminished as the cart continued and finally stopped. They would be at the back corner of the market, away from the buyers. Her father had pointed out the place to her many times. This was where the slavers made their deals for new stock. It was illegal on Turan to buy or sell slaves, but the authorities looked the other way as long as the dealings were discreet and the right people were paid off. Moonlight glinted in her face as Bahrd slung back the tarp over the back of the wagon. His knife blade flashed, grazing her skin as he sliced through the ropes around her ankles. Blood oozed from the small nick he’d made on her foot, and it stung sharply, but she hardly noticed as he hauled her to her feet and out of the cart. Her legs ached from lying immobile on the wagon floor for so many hours, but she hobbled to keep up with him as he dragged her forward, his meaty hand tightly wrapped around her forearm. The sky was black and studded with stars, but unnatural light shone all around them. They approached a large metallic wagon, rounded and shiny, the likes of which Shena had never seen before. By rights, it should not be allowed here, nor should their artificial lights, given that technology was banned from Tarun, but the slavers took a great many liberties with the law. Several hooded figures stood outside the wagon, interacting with locals. All the slavers wore long, tan, hooded cloaks. Sometimes a flash of rust-colored leather clothing and dark

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brown boots and gloves could be seen as they moved. One of the slavers glanced toward them as they approached. “I’m bringin’ this lass to ye for sale. She’s Wakefield’s daughter. A virgin. He’s talked to ye about price before.” Below the hood, piercing eyes flashed, locking on her. Then the man nodded. “Follow me.” He opened the door of the metal wagon and led them inside. Two men glanced up from their conversation. They wore the same garb as the other slavers, but their hoods were down, draped over their shoulders and backs. One had dark, shoulder-length hair and a moustache and beard, while the other had fine, short blond hair and was clean-shaven. The dark-haired one stood up and approached them. The man who’d led them inside spoke to the other two in a language Shena didn’t understand, and then Dark Hair grabbed her arm and tugged her forward. “Wait a minute. I ain’t been paid yet,” Bahrd complained. “We must verify that she’s a virgin.” A chill started along Shena’s neck and shivered down her spine. Bahrd started forward to follow, but the hooded man stepped in front of him. “Out of my way. I want to watch.” Dark Hair stopped and glanced back. So did Shena. Bahrd shoved the man in front of him, smaller by at least a head. The man touched Bahrd with one gloved hand, and he lurched backward, clearly in pain. “You will sit and wait,” the slaver stated with authority. Shena continued staring behind her as Dark Hair dragged her forward again, through a doorway, toward one of her greatest fears. He closed the door behind her, and she glanced around to see a large chair-like thing made of long pipes or rods of some sort. “Sit,” the man commanded.

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She glanced at the contraption, uncertain. Dark Hair grabbed her arms and spun her around, then backed her into the thing, pushing her downward. A strap slung under her thighs about six inches from her knees caught her weight, and another hugged her back at her waist. He grabbed her right wrist, positioned it above her head, and strapped it to the vertical rod on the right side of the chair thing, then took her left wrist and attached it to the left rod. Next, he tugged her leg forward, parallel to a horizontal rod extending straight out in front of her, and strapped her ankle to the hard metal. Similarly, he restrained her other ankle. He stepped toward a high table jutting out from the wall, where he tapped on buttons and stared at some kind of changing display. With a whirring sound, the rods started to move, flattening out, positioning her in a stretched-out, horizontal position; then the ones at her ankles separated, opening her legs.

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Chapter Six

Shena’s breaths became short and hollow. The man stepped toward her, scissors in his hand, and pushed up her gown, exposing her underwear. She gasped as he slipped his finger under the white cotton at the crotch and tugged the garment away from her body, then clipped the cloth with the scissors, exposing her most private flesh. Her face burned.

Oh, God, this is really happening. He slid his hand away, his fingers grazing her pubic curls. What was almost more frightening than his touch was the total look of indifference on his face. He returned to his controls and tapped at the buttons. A movement near her ankles her drew her attention. A silver device moved toward her, a long, slender oval, like a fat cigar, moving upward between her knees. She tried to close her legs, but the straps held her firm. In fact, she realized that she couldn’t move her lower body at all. Panic roared within her. Her wrists strained against the straps as she tried to kick her legs, but nothing happened. The device continued moving higher, now between her thighs. She sucked in deep breaths as it came closer, zeroing in on her womanhood, and her breath caught as the cold, hard metal nudged against her. Her vision blurred and she felt faint.

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Oh, God ... Oh, God ... Oh, God. Was it going to thrust inside her? Thoughts spun wildly through her head, but the device stopped when it firmly pressed against her soft flesh, slightly parting the folds. She released the air from her lungs, then drew in another breath. They were checking if she was a virgin, she reminded herself. It wouldn’t be very useful if the test itself broke her maidenhead. Every muscle tensed, she waited for what would happen next. Her shallow breathing left her feeling light-headed. Suddenly, nausea rolled through her stomach as something -- or things -- seemed to crawl into her, like the legs of some giant spider. They crept up the walls of her vagina, then continued moving deep inside her, probably into her womb. She lay stiff and shaking as the things prodded her insides. She had never known a moment so long or filled with such dread as she now experienced. It seemed like hours as the tendrils swirled inside her. Then painfully, slowly, they withdrew. The cold device eased away from her. Her head flopped back, her neck resting on another strap. At least that was over. The whirring began again, but this time, the rods drew her upright and folded her forward, her backside thrust behind her, her legs still held wide apart. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel a cold metal device brush against her buttocks, then settle firmly against her anus. It pushed forward a fraction more, opening her a little, and then the tendrils invaded her again. Tears prickled at her eyes as the device squirmed within her, fluttering against her insides, torturing her with an almost intangible touch. A few moments later, the tendrils slipped out, and the device drew away. This time, the whirring rods returned her to a sitting position, but another device approached her face. When she tried to jerk away, she found she couldn’t move her shoulders, neck, or head.


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The device pushed between her lips, and the tendrils explored the inside of her mouth, then slid down her throat. She felt the need to gag, but her body did not obey. She felt sick at the invasion of her body, but she wondered if the butterflies in her stomach were nausea, or the legs of the device swirling inside her. The tendrils withdrew, and Shena, once again able to move, immediately threw up all over the sterile-looking white floor. Her captor didn’t even look up as the foul smell of her vomit filled the room. A small, round device on wheels, about a foot around and three inches high, scurried across the floor and disposed of the mess, leaving the floor gleaming white once again. A few moments later, after tapping on his buttons and staring at his device, the man released the straps at her wrists and ankles. She immediately shoved her gown down to cover herself. He pulled her to her feet and led her back to the other room, then pushed her into a chair. A regular one this time, although not like the wooden ones Shena was used to. Bahrd stared at her as if she might have found a way to cheat him; then he turned to the slavers. The original man who’d brought her and Bahrd to the wagon had left. “Well? Where’s my money?” “In good time.” The blond man wrapped a thin, black cord around her wrist. “We must take her statement next.” “Her statement? And why do ye think she’ll tell the truth?” “Because this device will tell us if she’s lying.” The blond slaver turned to Shena. “Have you ever had vaginal intercourse with a man?” She dropped her gaze and shook her head. “I need you to answer me out loud. Have you ever had vaginal intercourse with a man?” “No.” The word barely came out audible from her tense, dry throat. “Have you ever had anal intercourse with a man?”

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“He’s askin’ if a man ever stuck his dick up yer ass,” Bahrd leered. Her already flaming cheeks flared hotter. “N-no.”

Good God, why would they ask such a thing? “Have you ever had oral intercourse with a man?” Her eyes widened, and she locked gazes with the indifferent gray eyes of her interrogator for a split second before shifting to stare at her hands. “No.” “Why don’t you try that answer again?” Blond Hair said, voice matter-of-fact. “He’s askin’ if you ever sucked a man’s prick,” Bahrd interjected. He leaned forward, his mud-brown gaze intense. “Have you?” She remembered the feel of Keern’s rigid cock in her mouth, the way she had lovingly stroked it with her tongue. “I ... But that’s not sex. I’m still a virgin.” Bahrd’s hawk-eyes locked on her with keen interest. “Yes or no,” Blond Hair asked. She nodded. “I need you to --” “Yes,” she said out loud. “With how many men?” Her hands clenched around the arms of the chair. “One.” “How many times?” “Once. Only once.” “So? What does this mean?” Bahrd demanded. “Technically, it means she’s a level-two-B virgin.” “What’s that?”

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“Level-three means all three orifices are virgin. Two means two are; one means only one. Level-two-B means only the mouth is not virgin, and level-two-A means the anus.” Bahrd lurched to his feet and started unbuckling his pants as he moved toward Shena. He pulled his dangling prick out of his pants and pushed it at Shena’s mouth. Shena cringed in revulsion. Dark Hair grabbed Bahrd’s arms before he could push it against her lips. “What do you think you’re doing?” “Well, I ain’t been paid yet, and since she sucked cock before, I’m aimin’ to get my share before she’s sold.” “Not a wise business move.” “Eh?” “I said she is technically a level-two-B,” Blond Hair explained. “In cases like this, we have some leeway. Given only one incident, we don’t have to disclose that information and can sell her as a full virgin.” Bahrd lurched forward again. “If one’s okay, two won’t make a difference.” Blond Hair shoved Bahrd back into his chair. “When buying a virgin, our patrons desire a woman who is naïve in the ways of sex,” Blond Hair said. “Two times can very well make a difference, but more importantly, it will put us outside our regulated tolerance level. We have a clear understanding with Mr. Wakefield. He is entitled to the full amount for this virgin. If you wish to have her perform oral sex on you, you will be required to pay the difference.” He eyed Shena. “How much?”

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Shena knew he’d be reluctant to admit that her father was dead. They’d probably buy her anyway, but the weight of her father’s status behind the deal gave him a better bargaining position. “One thousand local credits.” “A thousand?” His fists clenched. “No woman is worth that.” Shena gulped a sigh of relief as he shoved his limp member away and zipped up. “Look, you’re not leaving for a few days,” Bahrd continued. “How ’bout I bring back a few friends, maybe twenty or so. We’ll split the thou’. A lot of ’em would love to fuck her face. Fifty each wouldn’t be so bad.” Shena shuddered at the thought, her already queasy stomach lurching. “Out of the question,” Dark Hair responded. “If you paid the thousand and used her, she would then be officially classified as level-two-B, and we’d make her available in the brothel while we’re here. In that case, we would keep the thousand plus the fifty per man.” Shena shuddered again. Her father had told her the slavers often put their slaves into the local brothels. A big attraction was the night they made the locally purchased slaves available. The men seemed to love the opportunity to be with women they knew and couldn’t have had before. Bahrd’s expression turned sour. “Fine. Just give me the money.” Several moments later, with the exchange of money and a bill of sale declaring payment for a full virgin, Bahrd was on his way. Shena glanced around, wondering what would come next. She didn’t have long to wait. Dark Hair grasped her arm at the wrist and elbow, and before she had a chance to pull away, Blond Hair pressed a metal rod against her skin. Searing pain and the smell of burning flesh assaulted her at the same time. She cried out, tears prickling at her eyes. When he removed the rod, she saw a circle about an inch in diameter burned into the tender white flesh about three inches from her wrist. A single line radiated from the centre of the circle to the edge.

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Dark Hair exclaimed in some foreign language, then yelled at Blond Hair. He disappeared into the other room and returned a moment later, holding a metal device. When he brought it near her, Shena cringed, but Blond Hair held out her arm while the other held the device to the branded skin. Seconds later, the mark, along with the lingering pain, disappeared. What an amazing healing device. But why in the world had they inflicted the brand on her, only to remove it? Blond Hair continued to hold her arm, and Dark Hair put the healing device down, then grabbed the rod again. He fiddled with a lever on the end of it, then pressed it into her flesh once again. She cried out, then whimpered as they branded her once again. This time the mark was a simple circle. Dazed, she stared at the angry red skin as the men placed metal bands, connected by a chain, around her wrists. One of them led her out the door and around the back to a truck. She’d heard the word in reference to the self-powered vehicles the slavers, and some of the other rich merchants, used to transport goods from the spaceport to the market. Another transgression allowed to the wealthy off-worlders who could buy themselves past the law. The door on the back of the truck creaked open, revealing twenty or more women packed inside, sitting along each side of the truck or on the floor. Her captor pushed her inside and closed the door behind her. A little light entered the dismal space from a small window in the door. No one said a word. Shena continued to stand, uncomfortable with so many bodies so close. About twenty minutes later, the door opened again and two more dazed women were pushed into the truck. The door closed behind them. A rumbling started, and the vehicle lurched forward, slamming Shena against one of the newcomers, who hit the door with a thud. The floor bounced below them. Shena pressed her hand against the door and eased herself to the floor, as did the other two women. About a half-hour later, the truck stopped and the door opened.

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Four hooded slavers stood outside. “Get out.” Shena was glad of the breeze across her face as she pushed herself from the truck and the heavy closeness of the air inside. The slaver ship lay about a hundred meters ahead. Big, flat, dull silver. The hull, which had always appeared smooth from a distance, was made up of all kinds of panels with handles and devices jutting out. The ships had always looked so tiny up in the sky, but this one seemed gigantic, with its yawning door and the darkness within. The guards herded the women onto the ramp leading to the door. Shena’s knees almost buckled as she realized her father’s nightmare threat had finally become a reality. She had been sold to the slavers. The large hatch closed behind them, blocking out the setting sun and probably her last view of her world. Shena and the others were led to a large open area just inside the ship’s entrance. One by one, their chains were removed, and they were left standing there for a long time. Finally, a tall, bearded man followed by two guards came and led them into a narrow corridor. After a few turns left and right, one of the guards opened a door to an empty room about fifteen feet square. The women plodded inside, glancing around. In the walls, there were niches about six feet long and two feet high. They were stacked six high, about twenty-four in all. Shena did a quick count of the women. Twenty-two including herself. “I think that’s where we sleep,” one woman whispered. “Silence.” The tall, bearded man strode into the center of the room. A guard closed the door. “Most of you will be taken to E’Le’Dor, where you will be sold as slaves. Along the way, we will stop at two more worlds, where we will pick up more slaves. When we are on planet, many of you will be loaned to the local brothels.”

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“What happens to the ones who aren’t taken to E’Le’Dor?” a woman to his right asked. Shena didn’t see exactly what happened, but she did see the woman fall to the floor, writhing in pain, one of the guards standing over her. Ignoring the woman’s wails, the speaker continued. “I didn’t say you could ask questions.” He paced a few feet, then back again. “Once you are sold, your new owner can do anything he wants to you. He can touch you anywhere. He can fuck you anywhere. He can make you suffer in any way he likes. He can even kill you.” He stared at them with steely eyes. “Get used to the fact that your body is his. Learn to pleasure him, and you may survive longer.” He paced again. “Never make eye contact with a normal person. As a slave, you must keep your eyes downcast at all times.” He pointed to Shena. “You. Come here.” Butterflies swarmed through her stomach as she stepped forward. “Sit.” She glanced around. There was nowhere to sit down. He pointed at her with a black rod about six inches long. Intense, rippling pain shot through her, frying every nerve-end. “I said sit!” She crumpled to the ground, then sat cross-legged. He nodded. “Better. Now, look at this.” She glanced up at the black rod he held in front of him. He shifted it in front of his face, stopping in front of his eyes. Her gaze met his for a brief instant. “I told you never to make eye contact!” he snapped.

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He pointed the rod at her again. This time, the pain became completely immobilizing. She fell to the floor, writhing. Her limbs flung outward and her body twitched involuntarily as every nerve-end, every muscle, every organ felt as though it would explode. She prayed for anything, even death, to end the excruciating torture. Finally, the pain released her body, and she sucked in air, lying on the floor like a wounded animal, unable to move. “I hope this demonstration will help you all remember the basic rules. Now, all of you, get into the bed slots and sleep.” He walked away. She felt soft hands lift her. Two of the other slaves hooked Shena’s arms over their shoulders “Can you walk?” one asked. Shena tried to move the muscles of her legs, but they did not respond. “No.” The sound released from her mouth on a breath of air, barely audible. The women carried her to the nearest column of niches and laid her onto the floor, then slid her into the lowest bed slot. Shena’s heart thumped loudly as she glanced at the close walls around her. She felt like she was in a coffin. Could it get any worse than this? A few moments later, the lights went out, leaving her in pitch-black darkness. She felt as though she’d been buried alive.

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Chapter Seven

The next morning, Shena awoke exhausted, but relieved to climb out of the tiny sleeping space and thankful to find her limbs working fine again, if a little stiff. Most of the night she’d lain awake, despair coursing through her at the thought of Keern’s death. She and the other women were handed bowls of warm, tasteless food that didn’t quite fill their stomachs. Then they were led outside the ship to a large, fenced area with over a hundred women inside. Shena’s group consisted of the women taken in yesterday. The other women had been with the slavers longer, she realized, as evidenced by their downcast eyes and dirty, bedraggled appearance. Once inside the pen, Shena stayed away from the fences. There were several men in the area, some loading and unloading wagons or performing various other tasks and some just milling about. One was reading a newspaper, and the word “Herrington” caught her eye. It was in the front-page headline. She stared, trying to make out the rest, but with the way he had it folded, the only parts she could make out were “Herrington” and “Wak.” The man shifted the paper, and the word “Dead” became visible. Her heart thundered in her chest. The paper held the answer to the question she so desperately wanted answered. Was Keern still alive?

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She grasped the wire of the fence and strained to read more, but the man with the paper was too far away. “What is it, honey?” one of the other women, a tall brunette, asked. “That newspaper.” She pointed at the man. “It has the name of ... someone I know. I think he might have been killed.” “You’re new, right? Well, you could ask the guy to give you the paper.” “You think he’d just give it to me?” The woman laughed. “Not for free. Just show him your assets.” Shena stared at her, wide-eyed. “You might as well get used to using them to your advantage.” Shena tightened her hands around the wire. “Oh, sweetie, I didn’t see the mark.” The woman’s gaze had come to rest on the circle on Shena’s arm. “You’d get in big trouble for that.” The woman glanced at the man with the paper. “Is it really important to you?” Shena nodded. The woman called out to the guy. “Hey, you. With the newspaper.” The man glanced toward her. “I’d love a little news. How ’bout you give me that paper?” He raised an eyebrow. “What’ll ye give me for it?” She ran her hands over her breasts. “I could show you these.” He stepped closer, chewing a toothpick. “I can see lots of those for free when the graebers come bribin’ ye with food.” One of the other women whispered in Shena’s ear. “Part of the payoff to the local police for the slavers to operate here is that they let them come and offer food in exchange for favors from the women.” She pointed to places in the fence with holes large enough for things to be passed in and out.

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Shena’s new friend opened the buttons of her top, slowly, then parted the fabric enough to show a little cleavage. The man’s gaze locked on her fleshy curves. “So you don’t want to see them?” “As I said, I’ll see ’em later for free.” “Maybe. But you won’t get to touch them.” The woman made her voice sultry and low. His gaze remained riveted on her hand as she slid it inside and stroked herself. “It’s just a little newspaper,” she continued in that silky tone. “You can buy yourself another.” “Come over here,” he said as he moved to one of the openings in the fence. She stepped close, but not too close. “Do we have a deal?” “I don’t know. Let me see what I’ll get.” The woman pulled the fabric further apart, just short of revealing her nipples. One of the other women who had overheard Shena’s desire to see the paper leaned close to him and said in a muffled whisper that Shena could just barely hear, “She only wants the fashion section. Give her a page at a time.” He smiled, then said, “Show me all of ’em, and I’ll give you the first page.” The dark-haired woman pulled open her top, and his jaw dropped. She had the largest breasts Shena had ever seen. He shoved the first page through the bars. The woman who’d whispered grabbed the page and carried it over to Shena. “Now come over here so I can touch them,” he demanded. The brunette buttoned up her top and turned away. “Hey, I thought you wanted this?” He waved the paper, clutched tightly in his hand. He grabbed one of the women through the bars and dragged her against the fence, but one of the guards pushed him away. The women laughed, which made the guy angrier, but the guards prodded him on his way.

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Shena pulled the page open and began to read the article, which revealed that her father had gone after the Herringtons and killed one of them. Her heart lurched as she read the words, until she saw the first name. Will. Not Keern. She relaxed, relieved, yet knowing Keern must be suffering the loss of his brother. The words blurred as she read how her father had killed him and the eldest remaining brother, Keern, had killed her father. Her father was dead, and she felt nothing for him. Only a coldness deep inside. The article went on to say Keern blamed the daughter for his brother’s death because she’d lied about an encounter between them, after which, according to the reporter, she’d claimed Keern had raped her. She remembered his tender touch and the way he’d brought her exquisite pleasure. He must feel mortally wounded believing she would call such a thing rape. The words at the bottom of the page indicated that the article continued on a later page, which Shena did not have. The paper dropped from her hands. A fist tightened around her heart as she thought about the pain Keern must be in. He blamed her for his brother’s death. And rightly so. Although she hadn’t told her father Keern had raped her, she had verified his identity to her father. Maybe if she had lied ... Maybe if she had held her tongue ... If only she could change things so that she and Keern had never met. Her soul ached as she could almost feel his hatred gripping her.

***** Two days after Will’s funeral, Keern and his family sat in court. He and the chief constable had gone back to the Wakefield house and tried to find Shena, but no one knew

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her whereabouts, or so they had claimed. As the judge entered the courtroom and sat at his desk, Keern glanced around. Still no Shena. After listening to all the statements from Keern’s family and their men, the chief constable had agreed they had acted in self-defense, but with so many rumors bouncing around about the reason for Wakefield’s attack, this hearing was being held to determine if Keern would be tried for the rape of Shena Wakefield and possibly the murder of Henry Wakefield. Since Shena was the key witness, Keern was amazed she wasn’t here. As the proceedings progressed, he kept an eye on the door and another on the clock, wondering when she would make her entrance. As the minutes ticked away, he began to realize she wasn’t coming. His gut twisted as he wondered if something had happened to her -- and cursed himself for caring. The judge glanced through his glasses at the papers on his desk. He cleared his throat, the sound reverberating through the large wood-paneled room. “Mr. Herrington, in your statement, you say that Mr. Wakefield attacked your family and killed your elder brother, Will, and in turn, you killed Wakefield. Since he was the one who instigated the attack, you claim you acted in self-defense and the defense of your family.” “That is correct, Your Honor.” The judge lifted the paper in front of him, then shifted it sideways, examining another. “It seems, however, that Mr. Wakefield attacked your family because he believed you, Keern Herrington, raped his daughter.” Anger rocketed through Keern at Shena’s vicious lie, but he kept it tightly hidden. “I did not, Your Honor.” The judge leaned forward, his eyes dark and forbidding, and held up a sheaf of papers.

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“I have signed statements from a number of people in Mr. Wakefield’s employ who say that when Wakefield heard rumors of the alleged rape from a neighbor, Wakefield confronted his daughter and she claimed you did.” “She lied,” Keern stated calmly, although he felt anything but calm. The judge glanced around the courtroom and scowled. “Well, since Miss Wakefield is not available for questioning at the moment, I have no way to verify that.” “Your Honor, we have evidence to support Mr. Herrington’s claim.” Keern glanced at his lawyer, and the man nodded back, a sure smile gripping his face. The lawyer had told Keern as they stepped into court this morning that he had new evidence that would prove Keern’s innocence, but had refused to tell him what it was. The man loved the dramatic. “Well, bring it here, man,” the judge ordered. The lawyer approached the judge and handed him a large, flat envelope. The judge opened the flap, tugged out a piece of paper, and examined it. He shook his head, his mouth a grim, straight line. “Well, that explains why the young woman’s not here,” he muttered. Keern’s heart froze. Was Shena dead? The judge raised his gaze to the courtroom. “It seems that the young woman has been sold to the slavers. I have a photograph here that shows her in the slavers’ camp, and the brand on her wrist verifies she was a virgin. She’s holding a newspaper showing the date as two days ago. The claim she made to her father about Mr. Herrington was obviously false.” He turned his gaze to Keern. “Well, Mr. Herrington, it seems you were telling the truth. This hearing is adjourned.” His gavel cracked against his desk, and joyful voices erupted around Keern. But Keern hardly heard them, or felt the slaps on his back from his brother and cousin.

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Shena had been sold to the slavers? He approached the judge and reached for the photograph. The judge handed it to him, and he stared at the image of Shena, wearing a plain white gown, a circle branded into the soft, pale flesh of her inner arm, visible as she held a newspaper. The article she read was about her father’s attack on Keern’s family. A slaver ship had left yesterday. That was probably the one she’d been on. His stomach twisted. Protective urges swarmed through him at the thought of the slavers touching her, pushing their devices into her, at the pain she would have felt when she’d been branded, but he slammed back those urges. That witch had been the cause of Will’s death and she deserved every foul experience fate seemed eager to give her. As a virgin, she would not suffer a great deal on the way to the slave market, but she would be trained. That would not be pleasant. No, where she would truly receive her just punishment for her treachery would be at the hands of her master. If only he could be the one to administer that punishment.

***** Keern pulled his pack from the back of the wagon. “Are you sure you want to do this, Keern?” Jacob asked. “You know we could really use your help, with Will gone and all.” “I have to do this. Jordan is more than ready to take over the household.” “Well, if I can’t talk you out of leaving, can I accompany you while you find transport?” “No need. I’ll manage.” Jacob nodded and shook his hand firmly. “I hope I’ll be seeing you again, cousin.” Keern smiled. “I’m sure you will. Take care of them for me, Jacob.”

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Keern turned and walked away, hearing the creaky wheels of the wagon and the clomping of the horses’ hooves as Jacob left. Keern knew the slavers would be heading for E’Le’Dor, the only planet in the coalition that still allowed slavery. Not many passenger ships serviced Tarun, but he negotiated passage on a small trade ship. Luckily, E’Le’Dor was a prime location on the trade route.


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Chapter Eight

Shena followed the woman in front of her, prodded forward by the guard. The door of the ship slid open, revealing an alien landscape beyond. A sea of sand. A wavy horizon. An amber sky. The planet E’Le’Dor. She plodded forward, sixth in a long line of women, her ankles and wrists weighed down with chains. The skinny, vacant-eyed young woman ahead of her stumbled as she passed through the doorway. Shena felt the dense, stifling air blast in her face. Her dwindling reserve of energy seared away as she concentrated on moving one foot at a time down the ramp. Setting foot on an alien planet sent a tremor through her. She squinted against the blazing light of an unfamiliar sun. Her stomach twisted at the thought that soon she would be sold to some brute whose only interest in her was claiming her virginity. Who would buy her and how she would be treated, she didn’t know, but she was sure it would be a horrendous experience. Some of the other women speculated about rich men buying them and lavishing them with jewels and fine silks, but Shena knew better than to fill her mind with such fancy.

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These men wanted fresh virgin bodies, and more than likely once their hymens were spent, the women would be discarded, replaced with new virgin meat. Then they’d probably be sold to brothels. Or for labor. Or just put to death.

Keern watched as Shena was led to the block. He was shocked at the emptiness in her eyes. After hearing of Wakefield’s death, one of his soldiers must have sold her to the slavers. Keern was surprised she hadn’t been raped by such a despicable man, but it seemed he was more interested in platinum than lust, because Shena was listed as a prime virgin, and interest in her at the market was high. Keern had arrived on the planet several days before the slavers. His friend Jakmerah was very influential and had accompanied him today to bid on Shena. The guard shoved Shena’s bound hands over a large, dangling hook. Then another man pulled a chain, hauling the hook and Shena’s arms upward, until she held herself on her tiptoes. She barely seemed to have the strength to do that. The auctioneer regaled Shena’s attributes in a dialect Keern could barely understand. He heard words like “stunning beauty” and “hair like golden sunshine.” Then the man tore open her rag of a garment, exposing her naked body to the whole marketplace. A protective instinct shot through Keern and he jerked forward, but his companion grabbed his arm. “Easy, Keern. There is nothing you can do for her now. Leave this to me.” Keern froze, then nodded. He trusted Jakmerah. He had to leave this in his hands. The auctioneer slid his hand under Shena’s left breast, lifting it slightly, saying words Keern couldn’t hear through the red-hot rage slicing through him. He swore to himself he would tear the man’s hands off if he ever got close to him. Shena just stood there, like a lifeless statue. The man gestured and the hook rose higher, until she hung from her wrists.

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He spun her around, lifting her garment to run his hand along her round, firm derriere. Then he spun her back and lifted her ankles, starting to spread her legs. “Darg’ra, Jakmerah,” Keern muttered under his breath. “Do something to stop this, or I will!” Keern hated the protective urges compressing his insides. He despised this woman. What did he care if she was humiliated? Of course, he was disgusted at the thought of any woman being put through such degradation. It wasn’t stronger because it was Shena, he assured himself. Jakmerah nodded and did a throat-cutting gesture to one of his guards. The guard signaled to the auctioneer, who glanced at Jakmerah, then nodded and stepped away from Shena. She hung now, motionless, eyes closed. The auctioneer started the bidding. Eager men called out their bids, the numbers going higher and impossibly higher. Keern glanced at Jakmerah, wondering if they’d lost her. After another minute of bidding, Jakmerah lifted one finger. The auctioneer nodded and announced the bidding closed. Jakmerah drew a horizontal circle with his finger, and the auctioneer rushed to Shena to release her and throw a rough blanket around her shoulders. Keern’s taut nerves eased a little once Shena was covered. “What happened?” Keern asked. “One of the advantages of social standing,” Jakmerah responded. “If I see a woman I want, I get her. Courtesy is to let the bidding rise, to see what price she would have brought, and that is considered their tribute to me. I rarely take advantage of such privilege, so they will feel highly honored by this transaction.” “And how will I repay you, my old friend?” “With your continued friendship. That is, after all, the true measure of a man’s wealth.”

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Keern slapped him on the back and nodded his thanks. He turned to see Shena being led from the stage, clutching at the blanket, just like she had clung to his cape after he’d swung it around her shoulders the first time they’d met. He slammed that memory aside, knowing images of the blood-boiling passion that followed would overtake him otherwise. Keern watched as two of Jakmerah’s guards went to fetch Shena. She would be transported in the utility vehicle flown by the guards, while Keern rode with Jakmerah in his luxury air car. When they arrived at Jakmerah’s palatial estate, the guards parked at the back entry with Shena while Keern and Jakmerah stepped out of the comfort of Jakmerah’s airconditioned car at the front steps of the huge stone home. The oppressive heat of the day had cooled a little as the sun sank toward the horizon. “Do you want me to send her to your room, or would you like a special suite?” Jakmerah asked. The guest room Jakmerah had provided was a suite by anyone else’s standards, comprising a sitting room with two adjacent bedrooms, each with adjoining bathrooms. By a special suite, Keern knew he meant a sumptuous room set up for seduction. “My room,” Keern answered. “I know you said you wanted her brought to you this evening, but I wish you would reconsider. The woman has endured a terrible ordeal. I’m sure she is exhausted and frightened. Why don’t you let me send her to the women of my household? They will bathe her and give her clean clothing and a good meal. Let her rest tonight, and she will be much more enjoyable tomorrow, I promise you.” “Jak,” Keern said, through clenched teeth, “it is vengeance I seek, not a passionate romp.” “So you say, but I saw the way you looked at her, the way you strained to protect her. What has she done to deserve your need for vengeance?”

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“She killed my brother.” Jakmerah’s black brows rose. “This small woman wielded a sword against your brother?” “Her father actually drove the sword into Will, but it was her intentional lies that forced the act.” “What form will this vengeance of yours take?” Jakmerah’s intent gaze unsettled Keern. They both knew Keern had total control over Shena now that she belonged to him, a gift from Jakmerah. Keern could do anything to her, according to the laws of this planet, including torture, mutilation, even death. She was his property. Jakmerah squeezed Keern’s shoulder. “I know you, old friend. It is not like you to take vengeance on the helpless.” “You knew me, old friend. Before the wounds inflicted by that witch. Anything I do to her is a reflection of what she did to me.” Jakmerah sighed. “It is your business, Keern.” A servant opened the heavy, rounded oak door, and they strolled inside. The marble floors and a fountain splashing in the centre of the foyer added to the cool, pleasant feel of the room. “You will send her this evening?” Keern asked Jakmerah. “Will you agree to a bath and a meal?” “Yes. Whatever.” “And something to wear?” Her garment had been shredded on the auction block. “Fine. But no fancy clothing.” “Agreed. Something simple, but clean.”

*****

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Shena followed the guard through the long marble hallways, preparing to meet her fate. Thank heavens some sort of wonderful technology kept the air cool inside this place. When she’d arrived here, some women had brought her a clean gown and some food, then led her to a bath where she could wash off the sweat that had clung to her ever since arriving on this oven of a planet. After her bath, the women had warned her that the man who’d bought her hated her and wanted to hurt her. It seemed he had known her father. Probably one of his many enemies. Apparently, her new owner had decided to exact revenge on her for whatever wrongdoing her father had wrought. As if being sold into slavery wasn’t bad enough, she had to be bought by some merciless man just like her father. The two guards led her through a sumptuous palace, which she hardly saw. They led her up a grand staircase and along a stately hallway, then another, until they reached a double doorway at the end of the corridor. They knocked, then opened the door and led her into a sitting room. The guards turned and left. She heard the click of the lock after they closed the door. She stood in the center of the finely appointed room, feeling a little faint. Two leather chairs sat facing a large window, the drawn curtains hiding whatever view lay beyond. She longed to sink into one of the chairs and fall into a deep, peaceful sleep, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep even if she dared to sit. Which she did not. Over the weeks aboard the trader ship, she had learned very well what happened when she disobeyed whatever man happened to be master at the time. Her back still stung from the lashes she’d received, a punishment she’d been told many slave owners preferred, probably for its entertainment value. Just like her father had. She preferred to avoid any more, and she felt certain sitting without being given permission would be considered disobedient.

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A door opened, not the one through which she’d entered. She did not look at the man. That would be a sign of insolence. She kept her gaze cast downward. “Look at me.” She glanced up at him with unfocused eyes, making out the vague image of a tall, bearded man with dark, piercing eyes.

Keern stared at her, acutely aware of the hollows at the base of her neck and the gaunt look of her face. She had lost weight. She stared up at him with eyes dull and lifeless, until her gaze caught on his -- and held. A glimmer of fear and possibly ... pain? ... rippled across the placid blue pools, but no recognition. He strode toward her and grabbed her chin, a little too roughly, and locked gazes with her. “Look at my face. Do you remember me?” Confusion washed across her features, and then recognition sparked in her eyes. “Keern.” His name shuddered from her. Her voice, trembling with torment, quavered slightly.

Slaves of Love

Chapter Nine

He savored the effect, committing it to memory, tucked away in a place he could retrieve it often to soothe the vivid recall of pain too long subdued. Inflicted by her. Of a heart too long shattered. Broken by her. “What are you doing here?” she asked. His gaze locked on hers and held tight. She shrank slightly. “I own you, and I intend to make you pay for the death of my brother.” She stood trembling. “You lied to your father. You told him I’d stolen your virginity. He and his men attacked my family. He killed my brother, thinking it was me.” She shook her head, her eyes wide and liquid. “I know, Keern. I’m so sorry. I --” “Shut up!” he barked. She flinched at his harsh words, and he pressed toward her. “There is one reason, and one reason only, why you are here. So I can punish you for the pain you have caused.” His jaw clenched around the words. “But I didn’t --”

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“Shut up! I don’t want to hear your lies.” “You won’t let me explain?” “Why should I? I remember all too well how good you are at deceit.” He stepped toward her. Her back stiffened, and she refused to step back, but she couldn’t quite hide the flicker of trepidation in her eyes. “Are you afraid of me?” he asked. She held up her chained hands, eyes glittering with defiance. The chain clinked together, swinging back and forth in an arc. “You hold the key to my destiny. You decide if I live or die. I’d be a fool not to fear you.” Unwanted admiration flickered through him. He took another step toward her, putting his chest within an inch of the tips of her breasts. Keern expected her to retreat, to step back from his looming presence, but she stood firm, claiming a small piece of ground as her own. Surveying her with a cool sweep of his eyes, intending to shake her damnable calm, he felt his body tense with anticipation of what was to come. Her simple white gown followed the curves of her body in an alluring fashion -- and only two thin straps held it up. He’d waited so long. He’d imagined his revenge a thousand times. Now he could barely restrain himself. But he would. He planned to enjoy this to the fullest. He would linger over every step. Her breasts rose and fell in an unsteady rhythm, though she held her head high and didn’t flinch at his perusal. He could wait. To feel her body writhe beneath his own as her vulnerable flesh succumbed to his strength. To taste her sweet flesh with his tongue, especially the honeytipped nipples that remained in his dreams, perpetually glazed with shimmering droplets of water. To smell the womanly scent of her as she responded to him with the slippery glaze of

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feminine readiness. To see her face, tilted back in the agony of blissful passion, overwhelmed into vibrant submission. To hear her beg for the release only he could provide, as he was so sure she would, then the strangled moan of pleasure as she slipped from this reality to the “little death” of orgasm. Yes, he would enjoy this. But if his desire was for revenge, why did his fantasy include her pleasure? Perhaps it was simply the male need to know he could satisfy his woman. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her into his bedroom. “Are you going to fight me?” Fear sparked in her eyes, but she jerked her head up defiantly, her tumultuous mane of golden hair tumbling over her shoulders. “No,” she stated simply. Proud and beautiful. But also deadly, he reminded himself, pushing aside the reluctant admiration. “Really?” He grabbed her, dragging her into his arms. Her bound hands jerked up between them, sweeping across his groin, triggering a pulsing heat through him. Her palms jammed against his ribs, and she shoved against him, hard, but her struggles were insignificant against his greater strength. He loosened his hold on her, pleased to see the scarlet anger coloring her face as she realized she’d lost control of her composure and belied her claim. He brought his teeth to her neck and nipped. “I don’t mind if you fight. It’ll be all the more challenging. On the other hand, a quiet submission on your part could provide its own reward -- to us both.” His hand skimmed her form from her hip to the side swell of her breast. “If you actually participate, we might both enjoy this.” The stiffening of her spine gave him his answer -- the answer he wanted. She would not willingly enjoy this -- did not intend to give him the satisfaction. That would make his revenge even sweeter. Because she would enjoy it, making her humiliation more complete.

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“I won’t fight you. And I won’t enjoy this. If you prefer taking defenseless women against their will, that’s your weakness, not mine.” She glared into his eyes with a fierceness of utter strength, of spirit if not of body. Anger prodded him at his growing admiration of her, but he pushed it aside, not allowing anything to spoil this experience. “It’s no weakness to carry a battle through to completion. You started the war. I am simply finishing the fight. If I am victorious, you have no right to complain.” She sucked in a breath, seemed ready to say something, then shook her head and looked away. He stepped forward and tore the straps of her gown, shoved the fabric down her body until it slid to the floor. She stood before him, tall and proud, even with brief white panties her only protection from his eyes. The only sign of her trepidation was her averted gaze. Her breasts, as full and tempting as he remembered, swept forward in a graceful curve, the taut nipples beckoning to him. He covered her firm white breasts with his hands, pressing against the soft flesh, feeling her nipples peak in automatic response to his touch. The feel of her sent tremors of need thundering through him. He wanted her. More than he’d ever wanted any woman before. Once again he tried to convince himself it was because he wanted to hurt her, to make her pay for Will’s death. He wouldn’t take her life -- though as her master, he could do so legally -- but he could take her innocence. With one as strong as her, that would be worse than losing her life. Still, the pulsing need within him threatened to make him slave to her, not the other way around. It would be so easy to succumb to the desire to hold her close, to whisper sweet words of love in her ear, to beg her to love him with all the gentleness he knew she had inside her. Something deep inside him wanted to hear her speak words of loving encouragement, wanted her to want him in the most basic of ways. He wanted her to invite him inside her body, to beg for his love, not because he wanted her to submit, but because he wanted to fulfill her wish with loving intent.

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Anger flared as he realized how vulnerable he’d become to her. If she were a man, this would be simple. They would battle with weapons until only one remained standing. With a conniving woman like this one, things were far more complicated. Thrusting away the unwanted feelings she’d aroused in him, he similarly thrust her onto the bed. He flung her hands over her head, pinning them with one of his while he claimed one taut nipple with his mouth. He savored the feel of her soft skin pebbling under his tongue, the thrust of the nub hardening in his moist warmth. His teeth nipped gently, and she cried out in distress, though more imagined than real, since he’d been careful not to hurt her. Though she may deserve it, he would not hurt a woman as part of love play. He might enjoy her trepidation, but he would not inflict real pain. Turning his head sideways while he stroked her other nipple with his index finger, he watched as the flesh puckered erect. Her chest rose and fell in an unsteady rhythm under his cheek, and her heartbeat sounded erratic. Lifting his head to stare at her face, he saw her eyes scrunched tightly closed, as though she were undergoing some unbearable agony. Searing pain slashed through his chest. His whole world seemed to tilt beneath him, sending him off kilter. He had wanted her to fear him, had needed it for what seemed like forever, but now ... but now he needed her to want him. Needed it so desperately, it almost consumed him. As though his gaze touched her like a physical caress, her eyelids flipped open and she stared at him. He released her wrists. “Put your arms around me,” he commanded. She failed to comply, and he glared at her. “Do it!” he commanded tightly. She shook her head. The clinking of the chain as she shifted her hands drew his attention, and he snatched the key to her cuffs from the shelf at the head of his bed. She

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flinched, shielding her face with her linked hands. Clearly, she’d thought he’d intended to strike her. His protective instincts lurched to the surface, unwanted and dangerous. “My God, you really are afraid of me.” The realization flashed like ice water through his veins. He grabbed her wrists and unlocked the bonds. “Isn’t that what you wanted?” She rubbed at the red, raw marks left on her wrists from the iron bands. It was. But now ...

Darg’ra! He couldn’t let her get to him. On the other hand, he couldn’t look into those blue eyes -- calm surfaces that hinted at levels of pain so intense, he dared not allow himself to be drawn into them -- without wondering what had caused that intensity. He jerked to his feet, desperate to get away from her. “Yes, but I’ve tired of the game for now.” He strode across the room, toward the door. “Sleep. You’ll need your strength later.” He hazarded one last glance at the bed, to see her curled into a ball, her back toward him. Snaky red lines marred the surface of her soft white flesh. Most were the fresh markings of the lash, a result of discipline inflicted during her captivity with the slavers. As he moved closer, barely aware he’d changed direction, drawn to her like a mother grizzly to a wounded cub, he noticed older scars, healed over, but a map of previous ill-treatment. They were faint enough that he had not noticed them when he’d first seen her, but now, highlighted by the new scars, they stood out clearly.

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Chapter Ten

Shena felt his overwhelming presence behind her. She hugged her knees tight to her chest. Why didn’t he leave? He’d just told her he’d tired of her for now. Why didn’t he just leave her in peace? Give her time to build up her immunity? She felt herself weakening. She had caused him pain, and he needed to strike out at her. She felt his pain, like a hideous weight crushing her body. He wanted her to fear him, but what she feared most was her need for him. Could she survive this with her heart intact? The bed compressed under his weight as he sat behind her. His finger traced a crooked line down her back, probably following one of her scars. She flinched at the remembered pain. The searing heat of the lash cracking against her skin. Barely able to stop herself from crying out, she lay rigid and still, waiting for him to leave. A moment later, he rose, and she heard his footsteps as he left the room. Sighing, she relaxed a little, wondering when he’d return and what he would do then. She had little time for such contemplation, as he


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returned moments later. She felt him apply a thick ointment to her back with gentle strokes of his fingers. “With one as bold as you, I assume you were beaten to force submission.” “No worse than the others,” she replied, remembering the tawny redhead who’d lain battered on the cell floor beside her. The girl, no more than seventeen, had died in her arms. She’d been an example to the others, the guard had told them. “I fared better than some.” “I find that hard to believe, with your insolence.” She could almost believe he was teasing her, if it weren’t for the hatred she’d seen in his bronze eyes. She remained silent, allowing herself to enjoy the gentle flow of his fingers along her back, the soothing feel of ointment relieving the stinging pain of her wounds. “What about these old ones?” he asked. “There are scars that have been here some time.” Oh, God, why did he ask about those? Did her humiliation have to be so complete? Too exhausted to face the prolonged questioning she was sure he’d put her through, she answered. “I was a selfish, unworthy daughter.” She repeated the words her father had flung at her so many times that she accepted them as unquestioned truth. His fingers stopped moving on her back. He must hate the thought of touching someone as vile as she. “Unworthy? In what way?” “I ... I displeased my father in many ways.” “So he beat you?” His voice rose in mild interest. “Yes, he ... he had to teach me proper discipline.”

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“By whipping you? What grave sins did you commit for such a punishment? Did he find you with a man?” “Oh, no,” she cried, horrified at the very thought. “I told you that my father threatened dire consequences if ever I gave myself to a man.” Realizing her current situation and what would soon happen between them, she spun her head around to stare at him, eyes wide, then quickly turned away once she’d met his fierce, angry stare. Of course, he’d be angry assuming the auctioneer had lied about her. “I ... I am still a virgin.” “Never mind that. You don’t think being given lashes is dire consequences? Especially from your father?” She didn’t know what to say. What did he expect? She refused to think about what her father had threatened, what she’d seen him do to others. “Answer me.” His voice grated against her raw nerves, and she felt incredibly vulnerable. She couldn’t find her own voice and refused to remember the threats and the agony her father had inflicted. His hand clamped down on her shoulder, and he urged her onto her back. “I want you to ...” His words started off angry and sharp, but trailed off as he stared down at her, his dark eyes narrowing. She knew she’d gone pale; her cheeks felt cold and empty. Maybe he was afraid she’d be ill if he pushed her. Or could he be showing her some kind of mercy? The thought quickly dissipated as he tugged the sheet from her naked body. “Are there scars anywhere else?” he asked, his voice flat. Her eyelids closed for a moment, to head off a flow of tears she refused to shed. Of course, he’d be worried about having bought damaged goods. “No.”

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Her father had been careful to limit scars to her back, in case, as he’d often threatened, he ever decided to send her to the auctioneer’s block. How ironic, she thought, not for the first time, that she had wound up on that block after all, and yet her father had not been able to enjoy the profit from it. His fingers trailed down the center of her chest, traced the lower line of her ribcage, then back up her side. Her breasts swelled to the feel of his fingers so close, and she tried to deny to herself that she wanted his large, warm hands to capture them, draw them into his mouth. She remembered his gentle touch by the lake, the way he had made her feel special and wanted. How safe she had felt in his arms. She wanted to feel that again. “Why the hell are you looking at me like that?” At his sharp words, her gaze jerked into focus on his face. She’d been seeing him as he’d been that first day they’d met, remembering his roguish grin, his debonair demeanor. At this moment, a scowl marred his finely featured face. “I ...” Shaking her head, she averted her gaze, not sure what to say, not sure what he wanted to hear. “Shet’ra, you’re driving me to distraction with your wide, innocent eyes and your helpless act. Remember, I know how good an actress you are. Do you think that because I showed you some compassion, I’ve forgotten why I brought you here and what I intend to do with you?” His hands slid across her shoulders and down over her chest to cup each breast in a firm hold. He kneaded them with a pulsing rhythm. Like two pebbles tossed in a pond, waves of arousal radiated from them in mounting need. His hands slid under her breasts, supporting the weight of them, and his thumbs circled over her nipples. Jagged spikes of need shot through her, and she sucked in a ragged breath. He flung his leg over her, straddling her, holding his weight on his knees. He tore off his robe and balled it up before tossing it across the room to fall haphazardly across the settee.

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He was fully aroused, and his erection fell across her belly. The heat of his huge cock burned into her flesh, and she wanted to shift and swivel her hips to capture him inside her, to let the heat of it melt the cold that had held her frozen for so long. He leaned over her and licked her nipple, and she thought she’d go insane with wanting. Involuntarily, she arched beneath him, and he pushed her down with his body, his swollen flesh so close to where she wanted it to be. He tugged her nipple deep into his mouth and suckled, while his hand caressed her other breast, keeping it swollen with need. Switching, he warmed the other with his mouth, then slid his hands down her sides, over her hips. His fingers slid inside her panties, and she felt the slick wetness lubricate his touch. Unerringly, he found the small point of pleasure within her fold and stroked it with the tip of his finger, lightly at first, then more firmly until she could barely catch her breath. She caught sight of his face once, in her hazy cocoon of need, and his cold, calculating look sent shivers of trepidation through her. She clamped her eyes shut against that cruel glare. Images flung themselves against her closed eyelids, dragging her into the agony of memory. She remembered the housekeeper, two years older than her at the time, chained, her clothes torn from her body, a scream tearing from her throat as the first man thrust into her, the sound of his flesh smacking against hers as he took his pleasure at the cost of her pain. Her screams tore through the night, haunting Shena, turning dreams to nightmares. His cock nudged at her sensitive, womanly flesh, and ice tore through her insides. In a moment he would plunge into her, causing unbearable pain and blood. “No!” The sound wailed from her own throat, drawing her back to now. At his sharp expletive, her eyes snapped open and the evil memories were replaced by the reality of her current situation. Would Keern hurt her like that? Everything she’d learned about him told her he wouldn’t, even in anger, even hating her as he did.

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“Dehn’ra!” He flung himself away from her and strode from the room, this time without looking back.

Curled into a tight ball, Shena sobbed herself to sleep. A fitful sleep full of ominous shadows and fear. She awoke with a start, slipping out of the nightmare world into the darkness of reality. She slid from under the covers and pulled on the remnants of her gown, then moved to the window. The shimmering light of two moons caressed the courtyard below the window. Where had Keern gone? Fear started deep inside her, building up to a steady thrum. What if he’d decided he didn’t want her? He was her only link to her home. If he left her here, she would be stranded on this strange world, destined to live life as a slave. Even with the horrendous memories of her past, she suffered a gnawing desire to return home. And she wanted to see Keern again. Even if he hated her. Even if he wanted to punish her. Of course, Keern probably didn’t intend to take her back to Tarun. What did he intend to do with her after he exorcised his need for revenge? She slipped to the door and slowly turned the knob, being careful not to draw attention from anyone on the other side. She heard men’s voices in the next room as she pushed the door open a crack. One was definitely Keern’s. She peered out the crack and saw Keern and another man sitting in the leather chairs, talking. Keern’s back was to her, but the dark eyes of the stranger shifted, and she thought he stared right at her. She froze, terrified she had revealed herself. Her lungs tightened painfully, and she waited for him to punish her in some way. Would he call the guards and have her dragged away, or simply banish her into the room again? But his gaze simply returned to Keern. Maybe he hadn’t seen her after all. “What do I do with her now?” Keern asked.

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“Take her home and marry her,” the other man answered. “That’s insane. I told you, she’s responsible for Will’s death.” “So punish her by making her keep your house and bear your children.” “You’re no help, Jak.” “I am trying, my friend, but you don’t make this easy. You obviously love the woman. I’m trying to help you realize it.” Shena’s heart thudded. Could it be true?

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Chapter Eleven

Keern glared at Jakmerah. The man was a good friend, but did he have to be so overbearing in his opinions? “I don’t love her.” Jakmerah made a scoffing sound. “Look, you keep saying she’s responsible for your brother’s death, but she did not wield the sword -- her father did. And you do not know what she told her father because you have not asked her.” Keern slapped his hands on the arms of the chair and pushed himself to his feet. “She will only lie.” He paced across the room. “Even if she did tell her father you defiled her, he must not have believed it, because she was sold to the slavers as a virgin, and it is widely known that they verify this. If he believed you stole her innocence, why would he, or anyone in his household, still believe she was pure?” “Maybe whoever sold her tried to ...” A vivid picture slammed across his vision of some ham-handed oaf laying his hands on her ... tearing her clothes ... touching her soft skin ... hurting her. Just like he himself had. Shet’ra!

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“Do you think if a man ‘tried to’ with a woman like that, he would stop just because he came into contact with her maidenhead?” “One greedy for money might.” “You have eyes. No matter how greedy the man, faced with her beauty, he would not stop.” “I did.” “That, my friend, is because you love her.” His fists clenched. “I don’t love her.” “Fine, you don’t love her. So what do you intend to do with her?” Keern paced some more, rubbing his chin. “Her father is dead, so she has no family or home to go back to. Would you keep her here?” Jakmerah nodded. “If you wish it, my friend.” He sat back in his chair, scratching his chin, a thoughtful look in his eye. “My brother is looking for a concubine to add to his collection. She would be well-treated there, and loved often. He ensures that he visits each of his women several times every month.” The muscles in Keern’s jaw tensed painfully. “Or perhaps I will keep her myself. I have not had a virgin in a very long time.” Jakmerah raised an eyebrow. “She is still a virgin?” “Yes,” Keern grated, hating the thought of any man touching her, even his good friend Jakmerah. Especially his good friend Jakmerah. Keern was sure he kept his women well satisfied, and the thought of Shena stretched out on Jak’s bed, moaning his name, begging for his hands and body to pleasure her, tore at his insides. “Good. I could always give her to my brother afterward. I don’t need an addition to my harem, and my brother will be honored if I break her in for him.”

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“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” “I see. Would you like me to keep her as a harem slave, where no man will ever see her? Keep her a virgin forever?” Keern scowled. “I’m tired of this conversation. It’s been a long day. I’m turning in.” “Fine, we’ll talk again tomorrow.” Jakmerah took a sip of his wine. “You go ahead and sleep. I’ll let myself out after I finish my wine.” Keern nodded and strode to the second bedroom of the suite.

Shena watched Keern disappear behind another door. As soon as the door closed, the man named Jak stood up and strolled toward her room. Her eyes widened as she realized he had to have seen her. She backed away. He pushed the door open and stared right at her. “Tell me one thing,” he said. “Do you love Keern?” Dumbfounded, she didn’t know what to say. “Don’t think about it. Just answer.” “Yes.” Astounded, she knew absolutely it was the truth. He smiled. “Good.” He sat down. “Then let me give you some advice.”

***** Shena sat listening to the young women with fascination. They were here at Jakmerah’s bidding, to teach her the secrets of seducing a man. “I think we need to show her,” Gheni told her companion, Dania. Dania giggled and dropped her robe to the floor, then tugged off her bejeweled bra, revealing large, round breasts. Her areolas were as big around as daisies, and her breasts were firm. As she slipped her skirt down over her hips, Gheni shed her own clothing. Her breasts were a little smaller, and the areolas were the size of small buttercups.

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“If you want to drive a man to distraction,” Gheni said, “then touch yourself. Like this.” She ran her fingers across her nipples, and they pebbled immediately. She plucked at them, and they tightened and thrust out. “The only thing that gets them more aroused is if you touch another woman,” Dania said, dropping her panties onto the floor. Both women stood naked. “That’s right,” Gheni said as she approached Dania from behind. Gheni slid her arms around Dania and stroked up her ribcage, then cupped the woman’s breasts. Dania leaned back against Gheni, resting her head on Gheni’s shoulder, eyes falling closed as Gheni stroked and tweaked her breasts until they thrust forward in obvious excitement. She slid her left hand down Dania’s stomach as she cupped one breast with her right hand. Dania sighed as Gheni slid her fingers between Dania’s legs. “Dania, you’re already wet,” she crooned. “What do you expect? You know exactly how to touch me.” Dania sighed. “Gheni. Dania. You’re supposed to be helping Shena, not yourselves.” Shena’s gaze shot to the door, her cheeks flaring with heat at the sight of Jakmerah standing in the doorway. He did not look angry -- in fact, he smiled indulgently at the two women. As a testament to the truth of what the women had been telling her about arousing a man, she could see proof of his arousal by a growing bulge along the seam of his trousers. The women giggled and stepped toward Shena. “Come on. We’ll show you.” One woman started to lift the hem of Shena’s gown. “No.” Shena skittered back.


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“Stop,” Jakmerah commanded. “She will not be comfortable. And if you undress her in front of me, I will not be comfortable. Not and leave her for Keern.” The women stepped away from Shena, and she relaxed a little. “What would you like us to do now?” Gheni asked Jakmerah. “Stay focused on showing her what to do to enamor her man. Remember, she will not have another woman to tempt him with.” He raised a hand as if to stave off offers from them. “And I’m sure she will not want one. Now, proceed with her lessons.” He made no move to leave. The women smiled, and Gheni lay down on the bed. “I will be the man, and Dania will be you, Shena.” Dania stood in front of Gheni and swayed her hips back and forth, running her hands up her body, cupping her breasts, then running down again. She stroked her fingers over her nipples, pinching them lightly. They puckered and thrust outward. She sashayed toward the bed and crawled over Gheni, settling over her hips. She leaned forward, cupping one of her breasts and offering it to Gheni, who smiled and leaned forward to suck the nipple into her mouth, making Dania gasp. “Oh, yes,” Dania cried. Gheni slid her fingers to Dania’s dark curls, and Dania cried out again. “Oh, Gheni, touch me. Slide your fingers inside me.” “Ladies, this is a truly wonderful spectacle, but I think you need to give Shena some specific techniques she can use.” Jakmerah’s voice was slightly hoarse, and his bulge had grown. Dania stood up and retrieved a banana from the table. She pulled back the peel slowly, deliberately.

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“Maybe I should show her how to please a man with her mouth.” She discarded the peel and licked the banana from one end to the other, then sucked the end into her mouth. She sucked with a rapid pulsing rhythm, her cheeks hollowing. Jakmerah’s eyes glazed. “Dania, bring that over here.” Dania followed Gheni’s instructions, and Gheni slipped the end of the banana into her vagina. It curved upward, looking like an erect penis. “Yum.” Dania climbed on top of Gheni and licked, starting at Gheni’s curls, eliciting a groan, then sliding the length of the fruit. She slipped her mouth over the end of the banana, drawing it inside. She took it deeper and deeper. She stopped about two inches from Gheni, and then her eyes lit up and she slid off again. She pushed on the banana, easing it into Gheni a couple of inches. “Oh, yes,” Gheni moaned. Dania covered the banana with her mouth again and took it in until she reached Gheni’s curls. Then she twirled around the fruit and her tongue flicked out, stroking Gheni’s clitoris. Then the banana broke. Dania chewed it and swallowed, then licked Gheni, sucking until she’d drawn the rest of the banana partway out. She licked around it, sucked, licked, sucked, munched. Gheni arched and moaned. Dania thrust her tongue inside, her hands sliding up to grasp Gheni’s breasts. Gheni bucked and gasped as Dania continued to pleasure her. Her groans increased until she screamed in ecstasy. Dania smiled and kissed her companion on the lips. They embraced for several moments, then turned to Jakmerah. “Our banana is broken. Whatever will we do now?” Dania pouted. “Yes, poor Dania is left unsatisfied,” Gheni added. Both women looked at Jakmerah with big eyes.

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“Well, you two were being so creative, I didn’t have the opportunity to give you this. I thought it might be a useful teaching aid.” From a pouch at his hip, he pulled out a cucumber, about fifteen inches long. “Ohhhh.” Gheni grabbed it and shoved Dania onto the bed. Gently, she parted Dania’s legs and stroked her vagina, then eased the cucumber inside. She eased it out a little, then in again, out and in, going further inside each time. She stopped at about eight inches, then climbed on top of Dania and slid the other end of the cucumber inside her own vagina. Gheni started moving on top of Dania, sliding the cucumber deeper inside herself until their two vaginas met, joined by the long green cylinder. Shena could see a small band of the green vegetable between their two bodies as they moved. Gheni tilted her pelvis and spiraled it around. Dania shifted up and down. They both started to moan. Dania licked Gheni’s breasts, and Gheni stroked Dania’s. Their moans increased until they both cried out in climax. They both lay back on the bed, laughing. “Jakmerah, you naughty man. You distracted us even more. Shena won’t need to know how to do that.” “Maybe not that exactly,” he answered, his voice hoarse, “but she is learning about being uninhibited and creative.” Both women got up and approached Jakmerah. “I think what she needs to see,” Gheni said as she and Dania stripped away his clothing, “is a demonstration on a real man.”

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Chapter Twelve

Each woman took one of Jakmerah’s hands and led him to the bed. He lay back and let Dania stroke his fully extended cock. “You see how beautiful it is?” Dania asked Shena. “Would you like to touch it?” Shena shook her head vehemently, staying close to the wall, as far from the bed as she could get. Dania stroked the very tip of Jakmerah’s erect penis and showed Shena a clear drop of liquid on her fingertip, then took it on her tongue. “Your man will love it when you taste him. And he will love to taste you.” Jakmerah gestured for Gheni to approach him. She crawled over his face. He wrapped his hands around her thighs and thrust out his long tongue to lick her. Dania wrapped her hands around Jakmerah’s slender but very long cock. She worked her hand up and down, sliding along his length. “The head is very sensitive. Gliding your tongue around the tip is a wonderful way to start.” She illustrated her point, her pink tongue curling around the bulbous end of his penis. Gheni shifted back and forth in an increasing rhythm over Jakmerah’s face as Dania stroked his cock with her tongue.

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“Cover him with your mouth and slowly work deeper.” She took Jakmerah’s erection in her mouth, sliding up and down on it, taking it deeper each time. Gheni started moaning. “He’ll like to be sucked on. Suck hard and deep, but sometimes gentle, and sometimes just lick him.” Gheni’s moans came faster, and Dania drew his cock deep into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked hard and fast. “Oh, yes, Jakmerah. Yes!” Gheni cried. Shena could see Jakmerah’s mouth moving busily on Gheni as she gasped, then stiffened. “Ohhh,” she wailed, her cry intensifying until finally she moaned loud and long. Her climax seemed to vibrate through everyone in the room. Finally, she slumped. Jakmerah released her thighs, and she sank down beside him on the bed. She leaned over and kissed him, long and lingering, her hair streaming over his face. She smiled and lay back on the bed, watching Dania’s head bob up and down on his cock. “Dania, come here.” Jakmerah opened his arms to her, and she released his erection from her mouth. She climbed on top of him, and Shena sucked in a breath as Dania impaled herself on his raging-red cock. Jakmerah grasped her hips as she bounced up and down. Two, three, four times, and then they both groaned. Jakmerah’s face tensed. Shena could see the base of his penis every time Dania shifted upwards before grinding down. They picked up their pace, her body thrusting down on him, swallowing him, over and over again. Faster and faster. Dania’s voice rose in a wail of intense release. Shena could feel the wetness between her own legs. She ached for a man inside her. Her breasts swelled with the need for a man’s hands on her. Keern’s hands. Keern’s hard,

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rigid cock. She wanted it in her mouth, then inside her, thrusting like Jakmerah was doing with Dania. Dania’s moan trailed away, and Jakmerah let out a loud guttural sound. Dania smiled down at Jakmerah. She kissed him tenderly, their tongues entwining, then eased herself off his cock and stood up. She gathered her clothes and pulled them on, then approached Shena. Dania gestured Shena to the chairs at the table in the corner, where they had a view of the couple still on the bed. Gheni sat up and licked Jakmerah’s not-so-rigid cock. “Mmm. You taste of Dania.” His cock hardened quickly as she sucked him. “You can’t see very well from here,” Dania said to Shena, “but she’s stroking his testicles. She cups them gently in her hands as she sucks on his penis. She’s probably swirling her tongue around him while he’s in her mouth, too.” “Now, my love.” Jakmerah’s loving words signaled Gheni to release his cock from her mouth. He rolled her onto her back and climbed over her, then placed the tip of his penis at her opening. Shena felt her body stiffen. “What’s wrong?” Dania asked. “Won’t this hurt her?” Dania smiled. “No, of course not. This isn’t her first time, but even if it was, when the man is gentle and loving, it doesn’t hurt.” Jakmerah eased away from Gheni and looked at Shena. “You’re afraid, aren’t you? Because you’re a virgin?” His gentle, compassionate questions let loose the fear and horror she’d kept locked inside her for so long.

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“Yes. My father ...” She swallowed, searching for words. “He gave a young woman to his soldiers ...” The ghastly scene flashed through her mind again, and tears streamed from her eyes. “He made me watch as they ... as they ...” Her throat choked up and she couldn’t continue. Jakmerah spat sharp words in a language Shena didn’t understand, as Dania took Shena in her arms and held her, patting her back. “It’s all right. Go ahead and cry. It’s all right.” Shena sobbed in her arms for a few moments. Another hand stroked her back, and she looked up to see Jakmerah standing beside her, still fully naked. She couldn’t help but stare at his long, stiff cock jutting out over his belly. “Shena, that is not how it should be between a woman and a man. Your father was a very sick man. He allowed those men to brutally rape that girl.” He stroked her hair. “That is not how it will be between you and Keern. He will not hurt you.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “This afternoon, he wanted to hurt me.” “But he didn’t. He won’t hurt you.” He stroked her cheek. “Trust me. I’ve known him a long time. He is an honorable man.” She nodded, appreciating his reassurance, but uncomfortable with his nudity. “Now, let Gheni and me show you how it should be between a man and a woman.” He smiled and returned to Gheni. He knelt beside her and drew her into a warm embrace, kissing her tenderly. She curled her fingers through his hair and pressed her breasts against his chest. He eased her back onto the bed and climbed over her, then stroked her between her legs. “You’re ready for me, my love.” “Oh, yes. I’m very ready. Make love to me, Jakmerah. Let me sing with the stars.”

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He eased his cock inside her. Slowly. Shena watched the woman’s face as her tender smile turned to one of pure bliss. “Oh, Jakmerah, that feels so wonderful.” He pushed in all the way, then eased back and pushed forward again. Gheni moved to meet him. He thrust forward, drew back, thrust forward, drew back. Gheni’s breaths came faster, and she made little moans and sighs. Their volume increased as he quickened his pace.

***** Keern breathed deeply, sucking in the warm night air. He’d taken a long walk to try to clear his head, but he still didn’t know what to do about Shena. He’d been walking for hours. Time for some sleep, if sleep would have him. He entered the palace and strode to his suite. As he entered the sitting room, he heard some disturbing sounds. Sounds of pleasure. Coming from Shena’s room.

What the hell? He strode to the door and flung it open. Shock chilled him as his friend Jakmerah happily fucked Keern’s woman. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jakmerah didn’t even look up. He just kept pumping into Shena until she screamed loudly. In abandon and release. Keern strode across the room, ready to drag Jakmerah off her. Jakmerah eased away from Shena and whispered something in her ear. She rolled away and drew the covers tightly around herself, her tawny hair cascading over the white sheets. Jakmerah stood up, naked, his cock still hard and glistening with Shena’s moisture. Keern’s stomach contracted. He couldn’t decide whether to slug Jakmerah, or to throw up and then slug him.


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“Keern, you gave Shena to me, remember?” Keern’s fists clenched. “No, I didn’t.” “You asked me to take her off your hands.” “Darg’ra, I said I wouldn’t decide until tomorrow.” “Does that mean you’ve decided you want her?” “I didn’t want you to have her.” He stared at Shena’s naked shoulder, barely showing beyond the white sheets. He had blown it. Jakmerah had relieved her of her virginity. Keern wished he had it to do over. He wanted to be her first one. In fact, he wanted to be her only one. Ever. But it was too late now. “Keern, do you want Shena?” “Yes,” he hissed. “I want her.” Jakmerah gestured across the room. “Then have her. She’s still yours.” Keern jerked around to see Shena sitting beside another woman in the corner of the room. “What the hell?” Relief washed through him. “We were instructing her on how to please a man.” Keern seethed. She seemed willing enough to learn from Jakmerah. Keern had a feeling that as soon as Jakmerah had finished demonstrating lovemaking with another woman, he would have given Shena direct experience. “She doesn’t require any further instruction, thanks.” Jakmerah inclined his head. “As you wish.” The woman sitting beside Shena gathered the clothing strewn on the floor and followed Jakmerah and the other woman from the room. Keern slammed the door behind them.

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“Did you enjoy that?” he demanded of Shena. “It was very instructive.” She kept her head down. He remembered the fear in her eyes earlier and hated himself for it. No matter what she had done in the past, no matter what her part in Will’s death, he did not want her to fear him. In fact, he wanted her to look at him like she had that first day he’d met her. With wide-eyed innocence and pure adoration. Maybe it had been only a lie, but he longed for it again because at that time, he had believed she could love him. He tucked his hand under her chin and tipped it upward. His heart compressed when he saw the red puffiness of her eyes. She’d been crying. “Did Jakmerah force you to witness that?” he asked gently. “No, not exactly. He wanted to help me.” Keern’s insides churned. Wanted to help her fit in here, where her role would be one of concubine, of pleasing her man. Some man other than Keern. If Keern left her here. “You don’t have to learn those things, Shena.” “Then what do I have to learn, Keern?” He scowled. At himself, not her. Because he didn’t know what to tell her. “Never mind that for now. It’s late. We both need to sleep.” He stripped off his shirt and tossed it onto a chair. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to touch you. We’ll just sleep.” He dropped his trousers onto the floor, then climbed into bed. “No, I don’t think we’re just going to sleep,” she said, her voice strong with determination. “What?”

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Shena tugged open her gown and let it drop to the floor. The sight of her glorious, firm, round breasts sent his pulse skyrocketing. Her nipples were already swollen and rigid. Watching Jakmerah and his woman had obviously excited her.

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Chapter Thirteen

Shena wanted Keern, and she wanted him now. Whatever happened tomorrow or the next day didn’t matter. She needed him, even if she could only have him for tonight. Gheni, Dania, and Jakmerah had provided her with some powerful tools, and she intended to use them. He watched, his bronze eyes intent, as she climbed onto the foot of the bed and prowled toward him. Slowly, she dragged the covers from his body, noting with satisfaction his fully aroused state. She tucked her fingers into his underwear and eased them down ... slowly ... revealing by inches his enormous cock. She locked gazes with him and licked her lips, slid his briefs down his long, lean thighs, and tossed them over the end of the bed. Leaning over him, she lowered her mouth to the base of his erection and licked the length of his rigid cock, swirling her tongue around the ridge of the swollen tip. He sucked in a quick breath, but remained motionless. A tiny, clear drop of liquid oozed from the opening, and she captured it on the tip of her tongue. She cupped his chin in one hand while she parted his lips with her fingers, then swept her tongue into his mouth to share his taste with him.

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Still he didn’t move, so she took his hands in hers and guided them to her breasts, planting his palms on her hard, sensitive nipples. She sucked in a breath at the exquisite feel of his hot hands cupping her breasts. She eased one of his hands downward and tucked it into the intimate folds between her legs, then dipped his finger into the thick moistness pooling there. Pulling his damp finger to her mouth, she dragged her tongue along its length as she had his cock, then drew his finger inside and sucked with a rapid pulsing rhythm, as Dania had shown her. His breathing accelerated, but he still refused to react. So she dipped his finger into her dampness again and used his finger to circle her nipples, glazing each one with her own moisture, then leaned toward him, offering an erect pink bud to taste. He flicked out his tongue and lapped across her slippery, puckered nub, and she gasped, totally unprepared for the intensity of the feeling. He smiled. “You’re acting like the most experienced whore I’ve ever met.” She tried to stop the scowl from overtaking her features, but it settled for a moment. “Don’t worry,” he continued, “I appreciate your efforts. I just ...” No! He was pulling away from her. She had to think fast. She slid her hands over her breasts and squeezed her nipples, satisfied at the gleam in his eyes as he watched her. She grasped his cock with both hands and pumped several times, then closed her lips around him and drew him as far inside as she could. Repeating the rapid pulsing rhythm she’d used earlier on his finger, she sucked on him, almost fainting at the heady feeling of his rock-hard cock in her mouth. She cupped her hands around his sac and kneaded gently. “Oh, God, why are you doing this?” His head fell back and he moaned. She sucked and sucked until, suddenly, he stilled her head. “No, I don’t want to come in your mouth.”

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She felt hurt and rejected, but determined not to give up. She licked his nipple and sucked sharply, then laved him with her tongue. She repeated the same treatment on his other nipple. “Shena, I can’t take much more.” “Make love to me, Keern. I want you so badly.” His eyebrows drew together, and the serious look on his face confused her. “You aren’t giving me much choice, are you?” He rolled her over and eased her onto her back. He held her pinned to the bed, his hands roaming free over her body. His mouth captured one slick nipple, and he began his own torture of her, his gaze spearing hers, suckling with determined precision, drawing a ragged moan from her. “Is this what you wanted?” he murmured between nipples. All she could do in response was nod, her head lolling freely back and forth. He stroked from her shoulder, over her breasts, down to her slick folds, and slipped a finger inside. “You certainly feel ready.” His gaze locked with hers. “Is this really what you want, Shena?” She nodded. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll take you back to Tarun if you want. Still a virgin.” She shook her head. “I want you to make love to me.” He slid the tip of his penis into her slick opening. She resisted the urge to tense up. She stared into his eyes, knowing she loved him, knowing he wouldn’t hurt her. “You’re sure? You’re not afraid?” “Not of you.”

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He captured her lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth at the same time as he eased the head of his cock inside her in a slow, even motion. Her muscles contracted around him. The feel of his hardness nudging into her felt deliriously pleasurable. He stopped. “Are you doing alright?” She nodded, keeping her breathing as steady as she could. He leaned down and captured her lips, then surged forward. She jerked and cried out, the sound muffled by his mouth. He gently stroked the inside of her lips as he continued to push forward, slowly, until she held his complete length inside her. He kept his body perfectly still, kissing her tenderly, allowing her body to get used to his rock-hard cock buried deep inside her. Her eyes drifted closed. She relaxed and shifted a little. The feel of his rigid length stretching her inner flesh swept away thoughts of pain and made her insides melt. He deepened the kiss. A sweet, tender, passionate kiss that took her breath away. She felt him pull back, and her eyelids sprang open. Was he stopping? He smiled at her astonished expression and pushed deep within her again. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I don’t intend to stop now.” He pushed in again, a little faster this time. Then again. “All right, Shena?” “Yes.” He thrust forward again. “Oh, God, yes.” She arched to meet him. He thrust again and again, driving into her at a steadily increasing pace until all she could feel was the rhythm of their bodies joining, the pulsing beat of their hearts, the impact of their bodies as he led her to the edge of the precipice and threw them both off. Her world spun out of control, and her mind exploded in a starburst of ecstasy.

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She clung to him in quiet desperation as she spiraled back to reality, realizing she hadn’t allowed a safety net. She had allowed herself no protection for her heart.

Shena awoke cradled in Keern’s arms, her head pressed against his broad chest, his slow and steady heartbeat sounding in her ear. He nuzzled her temple, his breath sending tremors along her neck. “You’re awake,” he murmured. Sunlight streamed in the window, shimmering across the white sheets. Night was over. Fear quaked through her. Now that morning had arrived, what would Keern decide to do with her? He had said he’d take her back to Tarun if she wanted, but would he stay, too? Did he still hate her? “Keern, I didn’t tell my father you stole my virginity.” He stroked her back. “Yes, I figured that out.” She turned to face him. “How?” “One clue was your absolute terror of losing your virginity. You made me believe it was an act the first time, but last time I knew you weren’t acting. Another was when you told me your father whipped you. The third was that you said your father would punish you if you lost your virginity. There is no way I would believe you would tell your father anything to give him reason to punish you.” He smiled at her. “You really do believe me?” He kissed her lightly. “Yes, I really do believe you.” Breathing came more easily, but tears pushed at her eyes. He pulled her into a warm embrace, holding her close against his chest. He kissed the top of her head. “Keern, I’m so sorry about your brother.”

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“Thank you.” He eased back and stroked her hair from her face. “I realize now you had nothing to do with Will’s death. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same thing. Shena, I killed your father.” He stared at her, his tarnished-bronze eyes dark with regret. She nodded. “I know.” She knew any other daughter would have been grief-stricken when she’d found out about her father’s death, but all Shena had felt inside was a cold emptiness. “You had to avenge your brother and protect your family.” “Do you forgive me?” She stroked his cheek. “Yes, of course.” He tugged her close again, melting the coldness inside her. “You deserved better than him, Shena. You deserved love and tenderness. You deserved to be cherished.” He kissed her on the lips, tenderly. “If you will allow me, I’d like to make up for what you didn’t have as a child. I would like to spend the rest of my life showing you how wonderful you are. I’d like to spend day and night loving you.” She stroked his cheek as tears spilled from her eyes. “Oh, Keern.” He kissed her neck, then tantalized with a trail of kisses sweeping down her chest. “I’ll start right now.” He captured her nipple in his mouth, laving it with his tongue, loving it with tenderness. It jutted forward. He licked the hard tip, then sucked deeply. She cried out at the intense feeling. “Do you want me to make love to you, Shena?” “Yes.” She arched to him, showing how much she wanted him. Her hand slid down his chest, then curled around his cock. Her fingers stroked the tip, and he twitched in her hand.

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He rolled her onto her back and licked one nipple, then the other, then dragged his tongue down her belly to her clitoris, which he dabbed at mercilessly. She pumped his cock. He smiled. “Do you want me inside you?” “Yes. Definitely, yes.” He slid his cock to her opening and eased forward in one long, smooth stroke. Her muscles clenched, holding him in a tight, welcoming embrace. He stayed like that, buried deep inside, staring into her eyes. He brushed her mouth gently with his own, then nudged her lips open to slide his tongue inside. The effect of his rigid cock filling her, his gentle tongue caressing the walls of her mouth, and his hard male body pressed the length of her gave her a feeling of deep serenity. He owned her, he had complete control of her, but he would never abuse her or his power over her. “Keern, there’s something you should know.” His face tensed. “What is it?” he asked softly. “I love you.” The tight line of his mouth broadened into a totally devastating smile. He pulled back and thrust into her, making her gasp. “Do you?” She nodded. “I have since that first day, when you protected me from the soldiers at the pool. You were so strong and powerful, yet so loving. I had never known that any man could have such capacity for love.” He drew out, then slowly spiraled forward, making her dizzy with swirling pleasure. “The way you looked at me then, Shena ... I had hoped it was love.” He pulled back and spiraled forward again. She clung to his shoulders, loving how he loved her body.

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“I have a confession, too,” he said. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I love you, too.” He drove into her, straight and hard. She felt the waves of pleasure starting. He pressed his lips to her ear and blew lightly, whispered, “I love you, Shena,” and drove in again. “Oh, Keern.” Waves washed over her, flooding her body with pleasure. “Shena, will you marry me?” He thrust forward “Yes.” Then again. “Yes!” Harder. Faster. “Yes, oh, God, yes!” She splintered into a million different pieces scattered on the wind as Keern tensed and released his seed inside her. She fell back on the bed and held him tight, loving the feel of him still buried inside her. A warm fuzziness had spread throughout her entire body, and a broad smile spread across her lips. She whispered into his ear. “In case you didn’t get that, I said yes.” He nuzzled her neck. “Yes, I think I did hear that.” He nibbled her earlobe, then captured her lips in a passionate, tender kiss. “I love you, my darling Shena, and I will never let anyone hurt you again.” “Oh, Keern, I love you so much.” Their lips met in a blaze of happiness and passion. A knock sounded at the door. They ignored it.

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The knocking became louder. “Keern, it’s Jakmerah.” Keern released her lips and smiled. “I’d better let him in, or we’ll never get any peace.” A feeling of emptiness nudged through her as his penis slipped out when he pulled away. She wanted to push him down on the bed and capture him again, keep him prisoner in her warm, feminine depths forever. But she did have forever. He had asked her to marry him! The knocking continued. Keern kissed her lightly, then pulled the covers over their bodies. “Jak, stop that infernal knocking and come in,” Keern called. The door opened and Jakmerah stepped inside. His gaze swept over the two of them. “I take it you two worked things out.” “Definitely.” Keern linked his hand with Shena’s. “She’s decided to let me keep her.” “Really?” Jakmerah raised his eyebrows. “We’re going to be married,” Keern continued. Jakmerah leaned against the doorjamb and smiled. “I knew you’d finally figure it out, my friend.”

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Epilogue

As Keern rode toward the gates of his home, with Shena by his side, he heard the horn sound and whoops from the guards. His name sounded on their lips, along with shouts and hurrahs. It was good to be home. As the gates opened and he rode through, people greeted him. “Keern, you’ve finally arrived.” “Jacob.” As wonderful as it was to see his cousin again, sadness filled him at the memory of his last homecoming and being met by Will. He dismounted his horse and helped Shena dismount hers, handing the reins to eager hands. He strode toward Jacob and dragged him into a bear hug, pounding his back for good measure. “Jordan is here. He wanted to meet this new wife you wrote us about.” Jacob glanced at Shena and smiled. Keern took her hand and led her toward the house, smiling inside at his cousin’s obvious interest in the newest member of their family. Keern hadn’t missed the fact that Jacob’s gaze had briefly settled on Shena’s rounded belly.

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“Brother, here you are.” At Jordan’s voice, Keern spun around. Jordan threw his arms around Keern. “So, my big brother returns, and with a wife in tow.” He smiled at Shena. “And a little one on the way, I see.” Keern patted Shena affectionately on the belly. “Yes. I had a long journey to find this woman. Ironic, given she was our closest neighbor.” Shena clung to Keern’s hand, uncertain how his family would accept her. “Neighbor?” Jacob stared at her, his brow furrowed. “Hello.” Shena spoke for the first time. “My name is Shena.” “Shena? As in Shena Wakefield?” Keern slid his arm around her shoulder, tucking her against his side. “But now Shena Herrington,” he responded. “Keern,” Jordan said, “her father killed Will. How can you --?” “She is not her father. She is not responsible for the sins of her father.” “Of course, but --” “No buts. She is my wife and a member of this family now.” Tears welled in Shena’s eyes. Keern’s heart constricted at the sight. “Keern, I’m sorry. I don’t want to cause strife between you and your family.” Shena’s quiet words set his protective urges on high. He drew her closer. “You’re my wife and I love you. You will always come first.” “What’s going on here?” Jenna, Will’s widow, stood staring at the men. Jordan’s wife, Kristinna, and Jacob’s wife, Helena, stood beside her. Keern gave each of the women a hug. “I introduced my new wife, Shena, to Jacob and Jordan.”

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“And why have they decided to upset such a lovely young woman?” Jenna asked. Her gaze crossed each man in turn. “She is a Wakefield.” Jacob pointed out. All gazes locked on Jenna. “No, she is a Herrington.” Jenna opened her arms to Shena. Hesitantly, Shena stepped forward, and Jenna enveloped her in a warm embrace. “Welcome to the family, Shena.” Jordan hesitated, then stiffly stepped toward her and offered his hand. Shena glanced at Keern. He knew she had never had a loving family and this whole situation unnerved her. At his reassuring nod, she shook Jordan’s hand. Jenna jabbed Jordan in the ribs, and he cracked a smile, then grabbed Shena and wrapped his arms around her, giving her a sturdy bear hug -gentler than the one he’d given Keern, but solid. Once he released her, Jacob hugged her in kind. A shy smile spread across her face, and Keern’s heart swelled at the sight. The other two women welcomed her with gentle hugs. That evening, the women arranged a wonderful feast to welcome Keern and Shena. They spent the evening in the glow of warm family conversation. Shena had never experienced the warmth of family, and her heart swelled with the shared love all around her. “I never thought a Wakefield would be sitting at our table. And such a lovely one at that,” Jacob mused. “Now, our lands will be joined.” “And in love, not war,” Jenna added. Keern smiled and kissed Shena tenderly. “But more importantly,” Jordan mused, smiling warmly at Shena, “I never thought I’d ever see my brother so happy. You must be a very special woman, Shena.” “Believe me, she is,” Keern responded, hugging her close to his side. Shena had never felt so much love. She patted her stomach, joy swelling through her at the thought that her child would know the joy of belonging to such a warm, loving family, just as she now did.

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Elizabeth Batten-Carew My previous professional life was as a computer software engineer. After graduating from the University of Waterloo with a Mathematics degree specializing in Computer Science, I worked for 15 years in the high tech. field before becoming a stay-at-home mom. Over the next few years, I continued to do the odd consulting contract to bring in extra dollars and to keep my knowledge up-to-date. Now, both my boys are teenagers and I consider myself a full-time writer. My first reading passion was science fiction. My dad and older brother were avid SF fans and between them they'd collected hundreds of SF books, which I started reading before I hit my teens When I discovered "The Hobbit", I turned onto fantasy, too. (My husband is also a big SF fan. When we got married, we combined our book collections and we've been carting around 20 boxes of SF and fantasy books ever since.) I picked up my first contemporary romance after having my first baby (I needed something to do during those middle-of-the-night feedings) I loved them! Think of my delight when I found that there were actually books that combined my reading passions. Romance set in the far future. Contemporary romance with a twist. Fantasy romance. Now I write futuristic romances, fantasy romances, contemporary romances with wizards, or genies, or alternate realities, or alien abductions, or… pretty well anything a little different. And sometimes, straight contemporary romance. I write every length, from short stories to long novels, but mostly I tend to mid-sized novels and novellas. Elizabeth loves to hear from readers, so feel free to email her at [email protected]. Please visit her website at www.ElizabethBC.com.

***** Read on for a tantalizing glimpse of

Comet Coalition by Aubrey Ross Available Now from Loose Id

Comet Coalition Startled from her sleep by a foreign phrase, Danette opened her eyes to darkness. “What the ... Hello?” Silence.

Oh shit, what now? Three days of monotonous boredom had lulled her into a sense of security. “Why did you turn off the lights?” She huddled on the bed, blinking in a futile effort to focus through the darkness. The pleasure master had used the dark to motivate her. Had he finally returned? A violent shiver sped down her spine. “This is suffocating.” “If you see my face, I'll have to kill you. I thought you'd prefer the darkness.” His deep, faintly accented voice came from right beside the bed. Danette gasped and scrambled into the corner. His warm hand grasped her ankle and pulled her away from the wall. She screamed. “The room is sealed. No one can hear you. Calm down.” “What ... what do you want?” She twisted, trying to dislodge his hand. “I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.” She laughed. “Pleasure masters don't talk, they command.” “Well, I'm commanding you to talk to me.” He skimmed his hands up her body until he found her shoulders. He didn't cup her mound or fondle her breasts. This didn't make sense. Why was he here if he didn't mean to ... “Lie back. The darkness isn't as disorienting that way.” “Are the others ... can they hear us?” “No one can hear us. Just relax.” Applying gentle pressure, he guided her down. “That's better.”

Aubrey Ross

Danette trembled. His hands were warm and strong. Her feminine core pulsed with awareness, with long-neglected desire. She closed her eyes, wishing she could see him, wishing he would recognize the ache within her and take control. “What have you done with Palmer and Ashton?” “They're safe, for now.” That voice. She knew that voice. “Why should I trust you?” She started to sit again, but his hands remained firm on her shoulders. If she struggled would he understand? Would he climb on top of her and hold her down. Would he kiss her into silence and ... “I don't want your trust, and you can believe me or not, it makes no difference.” He squeezed her shoulders and stroked her neck. She arched away from his light caress, but kept her arms at her sides. Please, let him

understand. “Why did you touch yourself in the shower?” Swallowing with difficulty, Danette debated what to say. “Because you wanted me to. You said you couldn't touch me, so I ... Isn't that want you wanted? A hostage is supposed to cooperate with their captor. That's what keeps them alive long enough to be rescued.” “Don't you mean ransomed? How are you going to be rescued when no one knows where you are?” She wanted to laugh. Would it shock him to know she didn't want to be rescued? She was just as much a prisoner on Halley Prime as she was in this holding cell. Her father planned her days, scrutinized her every movement, made sure she never did anything inappropriate again. “How much are you asking for me?” “How much are you worth?” “To my father? Everything.” “And to your master?”

Comet Coalition

Was this a trick? Was he recording their conversation? Would he ... Would he what? Her father already knew about the Pleasure Palace; that's why he treated her like a captive. “I no longer have a master.” She'd spent the first nineteen years of her life in her father's shadow. Men either avoided her entirely or tripped over each other trying to impress her. But they had no real interest in the person they romanced. She was Admiral Tipton's daughter, their ticket to promotion and success. “Did he dismiss you from his service or did you ask to be released?” Pain spiked through her at his casual question. If he only knew! “Why do you care? Who are you?” Her voice barely a whisper, she confessed, “Your voice is so familiar.” He was silent for a long time. If it weren't for his hands on her shoulders she would have thought he left the room. She searched her memory, frantically trying to connect his voice with a face, an incident. It came back to her in a startling rush. This was Paul's teacher: Pleasure Master Nine! Did he remember her? It had been so long ago. A slow heated pulse expanded within her, intensifying until she bit her lip to keep from groaning. He wasn't just a master, he taught the others; he trained the trainers. Danette could scarcely breathe. “Where did you receive your training?” “We both know where we met.” He stroked the side of her face, tracing her full lower lip with his thumb. “How old are you?” His voice was hushed, speculative. “I don't see how we could have been there at the same time.” “I was nineteen when my training began.” Sorrow choked her. Paul . Her heart cried out his name. Even after three and a half years she mourned his loss. She missed his easy smile and flashing eyes. She longed for the security and unbridled passion she'd only known as his thrall.

Aubrey Ross

Eight months after she agreed to be Paul's thrall, her father rescued her from Paul's

perversion by dispatching him on a mission he couldn't possibly survive. A sob escaped Danette and she covered her face with her hands. Pleasure Master Nine joined her on the bunk. Lying on his side, he pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her back. “Why are you crying? Tell me now.” His tone brooked no refusal. “I can't.” “You will.” She trembled. This was her opportunity. All she had to do was object and he'd be obligated to punish her. Her nipples hardened and her core throbbed. No one had touched her since Paul. Her father wouldn't let her near a master and she didn't want anyone else. “Go to hell.” She sneered. He covered her lower body with his leg and grasped her wrists, dragging her hands above her head. He understood! Thank the stars, he understood. His muscular chest pressed her into the bunk as he reached for something above her hands. “There it is,” he muttered and she heard a metallic click. Guiding her wrists into the restraint cuffs he'd just released from the wall, the pleasure master quickly secured her arms. Her heart thundered in her breast, making her giddy with anticipation. He grabbed the waistband of her uniform bottom. She kicked and twisted. “No! You promised you wouldn't hurt me.” “And you believed me?” He laughed. “Silly princess.” He stripped her from the waist down while she thrashed and yelped, then moved between her thighs. Draping her legs over his shoulders, he raised her hips off the bed. His mouth hovered over her slit. Danette arched and panted. His hot breath stirred her damp folds, but he didn't touch her. Tension built.

Comet Coalition

This was madness. She'd never been so desperate for release. Her abdomen cramped with need and he'd yet to touch her intimately. “Please ... Master, don't do this.” Slowly, dragging his tongue from back to front, he parted her folds and flicked her clit. Danette cried out sharply. Pleasure spiraled though her pussy. “Please, Master, don't put your fingers inside me.” His throaty chuckle vibrated her passion-slick flesh. Thrusting two fingers deep into her core, he lavished attention on her clit. He licked and sucked, circled and flicked. Danette tossed her head and clenched her fists. It felt so good! A moan built in her throat and her inner muscles rippled. He pulled out and lifted his mouth. “No!” She'd been so damn close. The ache intensified, making her whimper. “You will only come when I tell you to. If you climax without permission, you will be punished.” Sensation receded, leaving her shaky and hollow. “Yes, Master.” He lowered her hips to the bed, arranging her legs loosely around his waist. “Shall I fuck you with my fingers? My fingers are much bigger than yours. Would you like that, princess?”

***** What people are saying about

Comet Coalition I recommend this book to anyone who enjoys futuristic storylines tinged with a bit of BDSM. Comet Coalition is a keeper. -- Susan White, Coffee Time Romance

Aubrey Ross

Comet Coalition is a wonderful and uniquely written story…If you are in the mood for a science fiction tale that is bursting with blazing, hot, erotic play, then this is the story for you! -- Contessa, Fallen Angel Reviews A great story for fans, eager for more than the basic fluff story known to plague the erotica scene of late. If you love a substantial story full of descriptive lands, and thoroughly fascinating secondary characters, this is a book for you. -- Rachelle, Enchanted in Romance

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